


The Boy With Golden Eyes

by li2



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Adoption, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Identity, Sick Character, This fic is just Sinbad adopting a little Alibaba
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/li2/pseuds/li2
Summary: Just a few years after he is recognized as Balbadd’s third prince, a young Alibaba is kidnapped by sea pirates. Through a series of "rescues" (by both pirates and passing merchants), he somehow lands his way into Sindria, the place he’s always wanted to visit...Except, he has to go back home now.But how could anyone ever accept to bring him back, when he is a child with nothing to his name and no proof of his identity? He will just have to work until he has enough money, hiding any trace of his true identity by darkening his hair with black soot and ink… or maybe a lucky encounter with Sindria’s King will help. If only Alibaba knew what the king looked like…At least, there’s this purple-haired fellow who’s friendly enough with him...
Relationships: Alibaba Saluja & Kassim | Cassim & Mariam, Alibaba Saluja & Sinbad, Eight Generals & Alibaba Saluja
Comments: 86
Kudos: 358





	1. Sindria

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite!!! Find the original [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18621025).  
> EDIT: WAS NO ONE GOING TO TELL ME I MADE A TYPO IN THE TITLE???? it's not "The Boy Golden Eyes" it's "The Boy With Golden Eyes". i've never been more betrayed in my entire life.
> 
> Let's pray I finish this in less than a year ^^'

A full month and seven days after he's escaped, Alibaba still wakes up expecting chains around his ankles.

As consciousness comes to him, his muscles tense in expectation of a foot stepping on his leg, kicking his head or his stomach. Perhaps sea water splashing him from the window that was left open, stinging at his open wounds and making his skin red and swollen like he has an infection. Or maybe even another prisoner being thrown towards him—whether they are a gentle soul or a devil incarnate, not the problem of his captors.

In Sindria, there is no such thing.

A full month and seven days after he's escaped, even with the phantom pains remaining, Alibaba does not truly expect for anyone to hurt him.

Life in Sindria is— simple and hard.

A land of paradise, of promise. In the Tales of Sinbad of the Seven Seas, Sindria is presented as an idyllic island, full of kind people, all managing to live together in peace and harmony, no place for misery. Here, there is no need for slums. There is no starved family discovered days later from the putrid smell, no mourning of a paper-thin baby wrapped so tightly in gauze by a grieving mother, no sickness that brings piles of bodies to be burned harshly until the scent never disappears.

Even living in the Royal Palace cannot compare.

In Sindria, people are immensely kind. They do not hit children playing, barely yell at them to scamper off. They rarely scream in anger, preferring to share fruity alcohol and smoked meat. Often, organized open parties send waves of cheers and music in the streets, keeping Alibaba awake and offering him an artificial warmth—and much needed food. They offer free samples of their cooked products, attempting to coax people into buying—even give some to Alibaba, who is so obviously too poor to buy anything, too thin not to be starving. They present their works with pleasure, thick rugs decorated with rich embroideries, spices that hail from all over the world. In this, it is so familiar to the rich paths of Balbadd, those that Alibaba only got to see from afar, rarely walk.

Living here is comfortable, even when in the streets. You cannot starve here, cannot suffer. The children who are discovered living in the streets are taken in by large institutions, where they are housed, fed, and educated all for free, nothing expected of them except to participate in Sindria's growth. Alibaba wishes it could have been possible for Kassim and Mariam, if not all the children of the slums.

Life in Sindria is—

It seems so simple.

Alibaba cannot let go.

His days are wrought with anxiousness. When someone raises their hand too fast, when someone shouts (in surprise, joy), when someone watches him with a too careful eye. Even just the physical resemblances—that crooked nose, that blind eye, those missing teeth, that limp from an unbalanced leg... Sometimes, there will be metal chains holding merchandise together. The jingle of it will either send him running or make him lose consciousness of his actions, coming back to himself hiding outside the city hours later.

He spends his days at the docks, watching the ships come and go.

Why is it that he cannot heal?

The gentle lull of the waves foaming onto the sand, the cries of the merchants hurrying to discharge their cargoes, the salty scent filling the air, all used to bring him such joy. Hours upon hours spent sitting under the shade of a building, Kassim by his side, blabbering about how many adventures they would go on, how many sights, how many treasures.

Now, all those memories deeply stained by those days inside the cold prison, metal around his ankles and wrists. The smell of wet wood, the sound of seagulls, even the sweet dance of the ships upon the water, it all makes his head spin.

His days are spent at the docks, the ships coming and going. He doesn't heal.

...

"Are you waiting for someone?"

The question takes him by surprise, not having heard anyone approach. Already anxious from being so close to the ships, Alibaba can't help the way he startles, curling upon himself and flinching away at the same time. He peers up at the speaker, eyes partially hidden by his ink-black hair.

It's a young man; hair long and very purple, clothes colorful and well-made, eyes just as golden as Alibaba's. His face is not particularly kind, but rather charismatic and full of an almost youthful vigor. Gaze on the ships, he does not even once glance down at him. The way he holds himself makes Alibaba nervous. It's too confident, hands on his hips, looking over the docks proudly, as though he had been the one to build them.

Alibaba doesn't answer, uncurling a little. He pretends to be a normal child. The people around here are so weird, they react badly to children who are afraid. Their pestering is kindhearted, if unnecessary.

"Or perhaps you just want to travel?" The young man's voice picks up with interest. Their eyes finally meet, but his pose changes. He leans forward, with a smile as though they were sharing a secret. "I was the same when young, spent hours fantasizing about what would await me outside… At least, until I went onto my own adventures. Then, I didn't have to imagine anymore."

Having said his piece, the young man straightens. His arms cross, chest puffed up. He looks ridiculously proud, but perhaps for a good reason.

Indeed, his already colorful clothes are accompanied with rich golden accessories: a heavy necklace, heavy earrings, a heavy top hat, a heavy sword... It's to be wondered how he can still look as though he is as light as a feather.

Alibaba cannot say his interest is not piqued. He adverts his gaze, considers pretending to be mute, but his eyes keep trailing back up curiously.

Stories of adventures, Alibaba has read so many: from the Tales of Sinbad of the Seven Seas that he knows by heart, to the less known tales of Lady Scheherazade and her previous Kings, and even the travel logs of adventurers going to undiscovered lands...

The old teacher at the Palace would be biting his nails, would scold him for hours about etiquette and unneeded curiosity. The young man's expression stays almost unchanged, but the corners of his eyes are curling merrily. Perhaps he is amused by Alibaba's childishness, rather than annoyed at his lack of composure.

Finally, Alibaba can take no more. His mouth opens, but having spent so many days without saying a word, it takes a moment before his voice can come out: "...Big brother, what adventures?"

The big brother smiles down at him with open amusement. "Would you like to hear? I feel that I've told this tale a thousand times, I fear that people around here have gotten bored of it. You must be new, to be so willing to listen." Is he a famous figure then? Tall and strong, golden eyed and with a determined expression, perhaps he's even King Sinbad himself—ha! As if King Sinbad would entertain a street rat. "It's been quite a time since I last went onto a great adventure, but in my youth I spent quite a few years out at sea."

He pauses, then. Waits for Alibaba to say something, he's sure.

He doesn't resist for long, "...Where? Where did you go?"

The man beams down at him, before he plops down on the ground with a careful yet nonchalant movement. “Glad you asked! Just about everywhere, I think. How about I start with my first adventure? I’m sure you’ll like it, you have the soul of an adventurer, don’t you?” Then, he begins weaving his tale.

Alibaba can’t say whether he’s being sincere about his story—whether he genuinely went on such an adventure or not. He listens with half an ear, his heart pumping too nervously from the sudden closeness with someone unknown, eyes set on the faraway ships yet always straying to anxiously check whether the man has gotten closer.

Yet, as the adventure continues, as the characters face more and more danger, at every twist and turn, every fight, every victory, Alibaba leans in closer by his own accord, both unconsciously and consciously, straining to hear more yet scared to death. Before he realizes it, he reacts accordingly to every events, mirroring the reactions of the characters.

It is such a tale that, for a brief moment, lulled by the promises of happiness and the growing bonds between the characters, Alibaba _forgets_.

For a brief, brief moment, Alibaba is alright.

By the time the man finishes his tale, the sky has grown darker, the evening having just begun. More than five ships have come and go, but he can’t tell for sure, his eyes having focused exclusively on the tale-teller after some time. Alibaba has tired from holding his tensed pose, and has by then relaxed enough that his head is leaning against his folded knees, arms only loosely holding them against his chest.

The man himself doesn’t look tired in the slightest. In fact, a satisfied smile curls his lips. With his crossed legs and slouched back, he seems more like an everyday man than the fierce adventurer of his tale. “What’s your name, kid?”

Alibaba is too tired to think about why he would ask that. He blinks slowly, watching the man’s features heavily. “…Ali.” It’s far enough from Alibaba, while close enough that he will react to being called such. Still, a nervous shudder makes his scalp go numb. “Brother, what is your name?”

There’s a bit of a startled look on his face at the question, but it quickly transforms into an easy smile. “You can call me Sin. It’s nice to meet you, little Ali. Can I hope to see you here tomorrow?”

Alibaba is unable to keep the surprise from appearing on his face. “I… Yes… I suppose…” Then, because he knows that the inhabitants of Sindria would react if Sin tried to hurt him in public, he dares to say: “I come here every day.”

A strange expression crosses Sin’s face. It looks bitter, a bit sad, disappointed. “Then, it’s a promise. You should head home. I’m sure your parents are worried.”

Although Alibaba doesn’t quite understand why the people of Sindria behave this way, after having faced this kind of conversation more than once with well-meaning inhabitants before, Alibaba immediately understands what Sin is hinting at. That expression, too.

_Child, why do you come here every day? Where are your parents? Do they not take care of you?_

Alibaba’s body trembles. Distrust grows in him. Why is it, these people pretend to be so well-meaning!? With a cold voice he can’t help but adopt, he says: “Indeed. They must be.”

Ah, did his voice shake just now? Has he fallen sick? It must be the sea wind.

He gets up and flees before Sin can say anything more.

…

Even then, he comes back the next day and obediently stays seated when Sin approaches him again.

Alibaba has had a long night and day to think over what happened the previous day. Remembering his actions, he can’t help but grow flustered, feeling like he behaved more like a child throwing a tantrum than a disciplined young prince. The people of Sindria are so kind, to care and worry for children like him, yet Alibaba always feels uncomfortable in front of their worry—it doesn’t feel right for them to worry about him, like he is illegitimate as just a street child.

Sin doesn’t seem like a bad man. In the streets of Balbadd, story tellers were treasured by the children who had access to neither education nor books. He remembers spending hours laying down in the dirt with his brother and sister, lulled by the tales of a resident old man or woman who seemed to always have some new story to tell. In the Palace, Alibaba talked to no one except his tutors, and found his necessary dose of hope for the future in the library. He wonders how many hours he spent fleeing his responsibilities and hiding under an alcove of the library, head in a book. Just for this, enduring his strict literature teacher was worth it.

Sin would have been very popular in the streets of his childhood.

At the same time excited to hear more adventures, nervous about having someone so close to him, and guilty about his behavior from the previous day, Alibaba trembles in place as he peeks at Sin sitting down next to him.

“Hey kid,” the man greets easily, no grudge in his voice. “Seen any interesting ship so far?”

Alibaba doesn’t dare take his eyes off him. He doesn’t answer.

It seems like it doesn’t bother Sin that much. He sits down lightly, and says: “Want me to continue where I left off?”

The silence answers him, but he takes it as an agreement and continues anyway. Alibaba rests his head on his knees and listens.

This trend continues for quite a few days, long enough that Alibaba gets caught in a daze, growing comfortable with this strange yet kind man who comes to the docks everyday only to tell a dirty and aggressive kid stories of his own youth.

A few times, as the days drag on and the man hits a calm passage of the adventure, Alibaba’s head grows heavy, his eyelids tired. He almost dozes off a few times, to the sound of this voice that has become a synonym of safety. Then it really does happen. He wakes up leaning on Sin’s side, who has gone quiet. Alibaba is so flustered that he flees before he can ask for the rest of the story.

One time, Sin’s stomach growls as soon as he arrives, so he leads Alibaba to the huge and bustling marketplace of Sindria.

The stand they stop at has fruits and vegetables of so many different colors that Alibaba can’t help but compare it to the pile of riches he remembers the Queen Consort having. Red, yellow, orange, purple, green, blue… They all seem to gleam under the sunlight.

Sin sees him looking and buys a handful of almost see-through round red fruits with green shells.

Alibaba looks at the exchange with growing dread. “No… Please… I don’t want to owe you,” he protests, even though his stomach clenches meanly at the thought of refusing food. He’d had the same problem in the Palace: his body had wanted to collect and store away every piece of food he had access to in case of another famine, while his mind had tried to reassure him that it wouldn’t be taken away.

Sin waves away his worry. “I have more than enough money, this much won’t harm me at all. Instead, it’s a pleasure to be able to feed you. You look too skinny, kid.”

Alibaba is flustered and pleased and offended all at once. It’s not his fault that he has so little to eat! Even so, Sin has no real reason to offer him this much kindness, especially over such a long period of time… Could it be that he really… really thinks of Alibaba as…

Instead of saying anything, Alibaba swallows down a bite. The sweet flavor explodes in his mouth, yet it almost seems bitter.

After this, Sin sometimes finds him on the dock with a basket of fruits in hand. He gives them all the Alibaba like he wants to fatten him up, yet never mentions any repayment.

Alibaba is horrified to find out that the feelings in his chest are overwhelming, whenever he starts to think about Sin and everything he does for him. This man has no reason to be so helpful and kind, and yet he continues to be so consistently. He’s almost afraid to ask if there’s really no reason—but even if he has a nefarious reasoning behind his kindness, Alibaba finds that he doesn’t mind all that much, as long as he continues to talk with him and offer him free food.

Then, one day, Sin sits down next to him and asks: “Do you want to work for me?”

And foolish, stupid Alibaba, so lonely and so desperate, opens his mouth and says: “Yes.”

.

.

.

Sin leads him to a grand, lavish place that he immediately recognizes as the Palace.

However, as fear grows inside of Alibaba and makes his limbs tremble, Sin does not take him to the White Capricorn Tower—the place wherein King Sinbad and his officials hold meetings everyday, inviting the citizens to come and say their worries. The further they get away from that place, the more Alibaba feels his whole body sag with relief. If Sin had lead him there, then it would have meant that… that he knew that…

“Why are you dragging your feet?” Sin asks playfully. “Did you change your mind?”

Alibaba doesn’t answer with anything other than a head shake. It’s not like he can do anything _other_ than trust Sin. He can’t go to an orphanage—what if they realize that he’s the bastard third prince?

Yet, he also can’t trust Sin entirely—what if he knows that he’s the bastard, and is only trying to gain his trust, lead him into a trap, and then… Who knows what he’ll do! Show him to King Sinbad! Send him back to Balbadd! Use him as a bargaining tool with Balbadd (as if the King or his officials would care about the bastard…)! Think him a spy and kill him instantly! Capture him and throw him into the dungeons!

Their pace falters, and Sin stops to peer down at him with a concerned frown. “Are you tired? Do you want me to carry you? It’s no trouble at all.” He flexes his arms to show his strength.

Alibaba has no doubt that Sin can carry him with one arm and run the rest of the way easily. It’s that strength that scares him even more. He’s completely helpless here.

“No, sorry,” he says shortly, and begins walking again, careful to keep Sin in his field of view.

“This is the Black Libra Tower,” Sin explains finally, as they draw closer. In the courtyard, a nice field of grass and white flowers dances in the light wind. The lands of Sindria are so green and lively, compared to Balbadd and the surrounding desert. “It includes a library and a school. Ali, tell me, truthfully, you are an orphan, aren’t you?”

Alibaba can’t help the surge of dread that coils in his stomach. He stops walking immediately, then actually takes three steps back. “...You know? I won’t go to an orphanage.”

His hearing takes a sharp dive, the world around him sounding both extremely loud and muted at once. Sin’s gaze is cool, so refreshing compared to the immediately worried glances of the other inhabitants yet also intimidating in its clearheadedness. “Alright, then you won’t go.” He pauses. “I won’t ask you why you don’t want to go to an orphanage, or what happened to your parents. You don’t have to tell me anything. Truthfully, I…”

… _know you are that bastard third prince, son of a whore, brat from the streets, raised by scum._

He’ll send him back! He’ll be sent back! Back to that place, to those people, to that pain, to that person with her hateful gaze and her sharp nails and her biting voice ordering the guards to throw him away—

“…just want you to have a roof over your head and some food. There are many kids in the orphanage, but I am also aware that not all can live peacefully in its walls. Some children feel too restless and have to work in order to continue living, so I— Ali?!”

Sin’s face has gone from neutral and almost cold to shocked and worried in a fraction of second, as soon as he turns back around and faces Alibaba. Somehow, he’s fast enough to catch him just as his knees fold.

…? He’s not…? Alibaba is trembling all over, lightheaded and cold from the sudden rush of panic.

“Calm down, I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Strange, just a moment ago, his voice was so cold and perfunctory, yet now it’s gone back to being warm and reassuring, just like when he spins his tales. He carefully holds Alibaba’s trembling body, then seems to remember where they are, and gives a short laugh. It sounds a bit panicked. “Alright, let’s just sit down for a while, okay? It’s my bad, I must have shocked you a lot.”

With that said, he hurriedly picks Alibaba up in bridal style, and runs off into another direction from where they were going. He’s carrying him effortlessly, as though he weighs nothing, and the hold he has on him allows for his face (and most of his body) to be hidden.

Alibaba can barely understand what he’s saying, and can only focus on the tone of his voice. He doesn’t seem angry by any margin, a bit stressed perhaps, and quite shocked. Alibaba is shocked, too. He’s biting back tears of frustration at himself.

He’s so weak! So weak! So damn weak! Just the thought of coming back— the faintest threat of being forced back— was enough to make him collapse!

But… he can’t help it. He’s so alone here, and to think for one second that the only person he’s trusted so far would immediately betray him as soon as he put all his trust in him—is simply too heartbreaking. He doesn’t want Sin to betray him. He wants Sin to like him. He wants Sin to be trustworthy. He wants so many things, yet it seems they all escape his grasp within seconds.

Alibaba squeezes his eyes shut.

When he regains consciousness, the Great Bell of Sindria is ringing.

He is clinging to someone, whom he realizes with a jolt is Sin, sitting down somewhere and letting him sit on his lap. The black ink in his hair seems to have rubbed off just the lightest bit onto his white robes. His eyes are puffy and no doubt red, and his whole face and head hurt. His hands are still clenching tightly at Sin’s shoulders, arms almost slung around his neck.

He must have thought… In the past, when he was still very little, when Mom was still alive and strong enough to carry him, Alibaba liked to cling around her neck like this. He’d bury his nose into her neck, and listen as she moved around. This was where he’d feel the safest.

Had he… had he done this? _With Sin?_

Alibaba doesn’t have the face to move away from Sin yet. This is so embarrassing! Sin must think him one brat now, clinging and crying onto the first person who’s kind to him since… _that_ happened.

“...Sorry,” he mutters, shock and disbelief coloring his voice. It comes out sounding pathetic, weakened by emotion. His throat hurts…

Sin takes a nerve-wracking moment to answer. His breathing is regular, comforting, moving Alibaba just the lightest bit. One of his arm is still supporting Alibaba’s back, to keep him at least a bit upright, sitting on his lap. The other is… stroking his back. Comfortingly. Reassuringly. His voice comes out clear: “Don’t worry about it. Are you more conscious now?”

Alibaba is certainly conscious, but he wishes he weren’t. His face is no doubt all red. Thankfully, from what he can hear, there is no one around right now. Although, that doesn’t mean no one saw them… Aaah! So embarrassing!

His ears feel hot to the touch. He nods against Sin’s chest. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Sin scolds lightly. “It’s my fault. I should have told you in another place, later, after you’d already taken your place here. I should have known you would panic.”

“It’s, I,” Alibaba unsticks himself off his chest just enough to peer up at Sin’s face, his two hands slide down to stay against his upper chest, in loose fists. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I— I didn’t think that I would— I’m sorry.”

Sin looks down at him with an expression he can’t place, and swallows heavily. Is he nervous? Suddenly, his eyes seem quite shifty, like he can’t look Alibaba in the face. Oh no, is his face really this embarrassing!? Alibaba hides himself back in his chest before he can think twice, then flushes an even deeper shade. Aaah!!

Sin’s hand stutters on his back. “Alright, let’s say the blame is on both of us then,” he says agreeably, although he doesn’t sound convinced by his own words. “How are you feeling? You can rest for today. I will lead you to the rooms I… the rooms that were prepared for you. Of course, if this place really doesn’t suit you and you want to leave, then I won’t force you.”

“...but I’ll have to go to an orphanage then,” Alibaba finishes for him. He doesn’t know how to react, since he can’t read Sin’s reaction. His voice is very strange, sounding a bit strangled. Alibaba isn’t strangling him. Why is he sounding strangled? Did he strangle him while his arms were looped around his neck? “…Is it alright for me to rest today?”

Sin nods empathically, almost comically fast. “Yes! Yes, you can rest today!” His voice sounds a bit pained. “You can rest as long as you need to. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I’ll ask for someone to bring you something to eat and drink, along with some water to wash yourself. Some clothes too. If you need anything, you can ask them. Or me. I’m available if you need anything, just ask someone the directions to my office, alright?”

The delivering of so much information in one go makes his head spin, but Alibaba still nods like he understands. Apart from the absolutely necessary, he probably won’t ask for anything else. He doesn’t want to feel indebted to these people more than he does right now, or else he will feel guilty if he has to leave Sindria.

Sin gently and slowly says in a coaxing voice: “I’ll carry you to your room. It’s just a short walk away, but your legs still seem unsteady. Please rely on me for a bit longer, alright?”

Alibaba has to swallow down his embarrassment, because Sin’s judgment of his current state is not bad. Indeed, if he were to attempt standing up right now, he would just end up on the floor again… But that does not mean he should say it aloud! “…Alright. Sorry for the trouble, and thank you.”

Sin pats his back sympathetically. “Don’t worry about it.”

…

The room he gets is nicely furnished, has a window that gives onto another plane of the Palace, and has a bed large enough to let Alibaba pretend he’s a starfish and not end up with fingers just over the edge. It’s also very, very soft and mellow, looking a bit like the eldest prince’s tummy and cheeks.

Sin cautiously places him on the bed, then steps back.

They look at each other in silence.

Finally, Sin sighs with a helpless smile. “I suppose our visit of the Tower will have to wait tomorrow. Ali, I’m sure you must be exhausted. Do you want me to stay and explain some more to you?”

Alibaba would really like to be alone and explore this new space peacefully, but he also can’t relax unless he knows what Sin wants from him. “You said you had work for me… but earlier you treated me like… like the orphans at the orphanage. Is the work you want me to do… my own education? Do you want me to go to school?”

Sin gives him a long look, and crosses his arms as he leans back against the bedside table. “It seems to me like you have already had access to an education in the past.”

Alibaba can’t help but look away guiltily.

Sin continues regardless of his silence. “I’d like for you to continue that education. However, it’s not like the classes taking place in the Tower are appropriate for children your age… And going from the Palace to the orphanage every day would be too tiring for you. Ali, you know how to read, right? Do you know how to study on your own?”

It shouldn’t be too hard, so Alibaba nods hesitantly.

“Then, how about this? I won’t force you to go to the orphanage, I won’t force you to explain anything. I will house and feed you, and give you the rest of your education. In exchange, you can work at the library, and help the bookkeeper there. She is quite grumpy but sweet with children. If you prove your worth through hard work, she will have no complaint, and you’ll have access to any book you need.”

That seems like such a good deal, Alibaba can’t fathom why Sin would let him do that. “…I don’t understand.”

“Hm?”

“Why… why would you go this far…” Alibaba doesn’t dare go in the details of just how much he isn’t worth so much trouble. He doesn’t want Sin to suddenly realize that he doesn’t actually want him here before he can even get a taste of what this life would be like.

Sin smiles and it makes his eyes curl. “Why? Who knows, it’s because I want to.” His gaze goes distant, on the scenery outside the window. One can only imagine what he is seeing. “Children your age should be carefree, and not have to worry about food or shelter. Do I need any motivation other than that? Ali, haven’t we had our bonding moments, too?”

Alibaba’s mind goes blank, and no answer comes from. His gaze lowers down to his lap, where his hands and lightly going over the embroidered patterns of those new clothes Sin has given him and—

…

His frame is so small, reclusive, curled up.

This kid. Sinbad doesn’t know what to do about him.

Each word should be chosen carefully, yet Sinbad always manages to make a blunder and say something that throws the kid off. Just earlier, when he collapsed so suddenly… he must have lost 10 years of life expectancy just with the amount of panic that gripped him in that one moment. How do parents deal with their kids?

Ah, damn, he’s not answering again.

Should he let it be? Should he press him for an answer? Sinbad can only helplessly say in the softest voice possible, “Ali, do you agree? Are you alright with living here in exchange for work at the library?”

Ali’s eyes fly all over the place, with a nervous cadence that makes Sinbad’s heart pump in a loud and terrifying way. Damn. This kid has managed to get such a grip on him.

His robes are stained by the ink in the kid’s hair, and there remains a bit of a wet stop on his collarbone. His legs and arms still remember the weight of carrying that shaking and curled up body. He can still see the horrified expression on his face, can still hear the terrifyingly silent whimpers and sobs let out in that pained voice. The passing-by servants and officials’ confused and worried murmurs and looks. Ja’far waiting for him just a corridor away and leading him to a quiet corner, then leaving with a disappointed and worried tilt to his eyebrows.

Sinbad’s mind went blank the moment Ali collapsed. From that point onward, everything seemed more like a dream than anything else. When he came back to himself, he was sitting on a bench with Ali curled up in his lap. Small, bruised. Bony hands gripping him with fervor. Panicked yet hushed breathing against his neck. He’d only been able to gather himself as much as possible and try to rub comforting circles on his back.

This kid—

Ali is—

Sinbad can’t let him go anymore.

There are many orphan children in Sindria. There are even more orphan children in the rest of the world. Parents die, disappear, abandon them. Children are left to fend for themselves, find shelter and food and anything they’d ever need.

There is scum in this world, and Sinbad does not have the purest morals that exist. However, children are innocent.

Sinbad himself is an orphan, although he was already quite old when his mother died. Even before then, because of how sick she’d gotten, he’d had to work for the both of them to survive. At the time, it didn’t bother him at all, but now… for all children, he wishes for the world to be a bit kinder. Maybe, then, they wouldn’t grow up to be scum.

The orphanage helps the orphans of Sindria, but there still exist a few children who refuse to go to the orphanage, for whatever reason they have. Either they are forced to go anyway and grow to like living there, or they are offered a job against a shelter and food.

Sinbad has met some of those children in the past, but never before has he reacted like that. Never before had he been this taken with a child, grown so affectionate of a kid—at least, not since he himself was younger and had taken Ja’far under his wing. Ali is different, not as young as Ja’far had been and not as trained to be resilient to all kinds of pain.

Ali, who is so wary and so afraid, who directs such trusting eyes up at Sinbad.

“Ali?” he coaxes again.

The kid’s hands are clenching on his lap. “…I agree.”

Sinbad’s shoulders sag in relief. A large smile breaks out on his face. “That’s great. I’m sure you’ll enjoy life here. Everyone is quite kind, even if they hide it behind a tough exterior. If anyone dares try to hurt or abuse you, come to me immediately, alright? I’ll take care of it. I’ll come visit you often, how about a few meals together? You enjoyed the melon so much last time, I can get you some more of those fruits if you want.” Ali is starting to look overwhelmed, so Sinbad stops short. “Of course, if you don’t want to meet me, then I won’t force you.”

“That’s not… No, it’s just that…” He is looking a bit flushed—with pleasure? Children always enjoy the attention of people they look up to. “I don’t want to bother you. If you don’t have the time, then… I can survive on my own…”

Sinbad can’t even begin to imagine how another abandonment would impact Ali’s already fragile psyche. He crouches down to meet Ali’s fleeing gaze. “Ali, don’t worry about it. You will never be a bother.” Or at least, he won’t be a bother in any way that matters (—Sinbad doubts Ali would want to hurt Sindria, what with the sparkles in his eyes and the hushed tone of his voice whenever he talks about living in Sindria).

There’s a pleased tilt to Ali’s eyes, a bit shocked and unconvinced yet also willing to trust, but he doesn’t answer.

Sinbad continues for him, “Alright. Ali, let’s rest for tonight. I’ll send someone for food. Do you want me to stay with you for dinner?”

Of course, Ali doesn’t give a straight answer, and instead tries to assure him a thousand or so times that he would be fine alone. Sinbad assures him right back that he wants to stay, and it makes Ali’s mouth wobble like he wants to smile but isn’t sure whether it’s allowed.

When he steps out of the room in order to ask for dinner, Ja’far catches him.

“Sorry,” Sinbad says empathically. “I’ll be busy tonight. Can you take care of things for me?”

Ja’far’s gaze is strange, glancing towards Ali’s new room. “You… really care about him,” he says slowly, with awe. Then, he sighs. “There are whispers of what happened already. I’ll make them stop shortly, but it might still reach some more ears. We’re not used to seeing you care this much so suddenly.” He looks up and down at Sinbad, eyes stopping on the ink stains and still faintly wet patches. “Sin… are you sure of what you’re doing?”

“Not a single bit,” he answers with false cheer. “But… I can’t abandon him. Probably, right now, I’m all he has.”

“Would he be happy, to know you only help him out of pity?”

The question is rhetorical. “It’s not pity. Ja’far, you have to meet him, he’s really— This kid is great. I want him to be happy.” He sighs, and puts a hand through his hair dramatically. “It’s hard to explain, but I do genuinely care for him. I don’t think I could even try to do otherwise.”

Ja’far’s expression is filled with something akin to pity. “Sin, do you even realize what you’ve put yourself into? We know nothing about this kid, or why he’s been so hurt in the past. And… does the kid realize who you are…?”

Sinbad winces. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”

Ja’far closes his eyes like the sight of him is painful. “Sin… be careful, else you will break his heart.”

With that truth pointed out, he turns away and leaves, not even waiting for a dismissal.

Sinbad swallows back the anxiety that’s just surfaced, and hurries to find a servant.

.

.

.

Sin accompanies him to the library the next day, and introduces him to the bookkeeper.

The bookkeeper is an elder lady with a mean glare, long hair pulled into an intricate hairstyle, wearing simple clothes yet with expensive and finely-crafted jewelry. During her explanation of everything he will have to do from now on, Alibaba stumbles on a nook of the carpet in front of her and she catches him and continues on her speech before he can even murmur an apology. Sin sends him thumbs ups at that with that foolish smile he sometimes shows.

The tasks given to him are actually quite simple: he has to help her classify all the new incoming books and scrolls, help clean up the library grounds every day, help any visitors find the books they need—this kind of complicated yet simple task. In exchange of only this much, he will be allowed shelter, food, water, warmth, and an education…?

Alibaba is so amazed by everything Sin has brought him so far that he can’t even put it into words.

The bookkeeper returns to her desk while Sin insists on Alibaba seeing him off.

“I have to go back to work unfortunately.” Sin pouts like it’s supposed to make Ali pity him, but it only looks ridiculous on his refined and strong face. “Ali, will you be alright? It’s a lot of work to take on suddenly, so it’s alright if you falter a bit at the beginning. You only need to learn the ropes, then it’ll all become easy as can be.”

A man this kind shouldn’t exist. Although he still feels wary and still fears that there is something hidden to this deal, Alibaba is grateful enough that he pushes through his fears to say: “Sin, I… Thank you so much. You’ve… I really appreciate this.”

His eyes are lowered when he says this, so he startles a bit when Sin’s hand ruffles his hair suddenly.

Sin’s hand has a comforting weight. He lingers a bit before removing his hand. “You’re welcome. Repay me well by being happy here, alright? I’ll come see you soon.”

Alibaba agrees easily, and watches him leave with wide eyes. Then, he turns around, and begins working.

…

Alibaba is confused to see Sin come back to the Library only a few hours later, just as his (excessively long) lunch break begins. He’s just come out the door to see that Sin is leaning on a wall just outside.

“Sin? Are you here for the library?” Alibaba asks, walking up to Sin by reflex. He would have jogged if his legs allowed it. “It just closed for lunch, but I think Mrs Bookkeeper will stay there anyway…” He trails off when he sees that Sin is starting to show a large smile.

“Well aren’t you excited?” His voice has taken a light, airy tone that makes the whole sentence sound like a joke. “Did it go well? I thought we could eat lunch together. There are so many good things prepared here, I want to show it off to you.”

Alibaba is hesitant, if only because he doesn’t want to bother Sin too much. Then again, he has been staying with Alibaba for hours on end every day for quite some time now, surely one more meal together would not cause trouble…? Alibaba is not anticipating finding himself alone in this place again. He does not even know where he’s supposed to find food, actually.

He wants to agree immediately, but instead he asks: “Don’t you have work to do?”

“It’s fine,” Sin is already turning around and beginning to walk away. “Come on, follow me, I’ll show you where you can get your food.”

Alibaba doesn’t protest any more and follows silently.

In the bright shine of the sun, the Palace is even more magnificent. As they walk, Alibaba admires the finely sculpted walls, the colorful paintings and tapestries, the smooth sound each step makes on the floor, the wafting smell of copper and gold and hints of the flowers outside. The room Sin has given him is also wonderful, and he has already spent quite a few hours observing it from every angle. Although he has spent a couple of years at Balbadd’s Palace, he is still a street rat at heart, and the sight of such riches always makes his heart tremble with want.

Sin makes a running commentary all the while. He observes Alibaba’s every reaction and explains each painting and tapestry, and even knows why such and such sculpture looks that way. He even tells Alibaba about the types of flowers that grow on Sindria.

“You really know a lot,” Alibaba comments idly, then finds that his voice is louder than he anticipated. He stumbles a bit on his next step.

Sin doesn’t even seem to notice. “I love Sindria,” he says easily, yet there’s a weight to his voice. “I’ve been here since its very beginnings.”

The way Sin looks and sounds in that moment makes—something crazy is created in Alibaba’s head. A theory that doesn’t make sense. It can’t make sense. He shuts up the thought before it can form fully.

Instead, he only looks up at Sin in amazement, then flushes and looks downwards again. Maybe the familiarity he finds in that gaze is because his father used to look like that, too, when talking about Balbadd. He wonders how Balbadd is going.

“Do you know the Adventures of Sinbad then?” Alibaba asks excitedly before he can stop himself. “I was only able to read the latest ones, with the foundation of Sindria. Were you there even before?”

Sin’s gaze becomes strange. He peers down at him, even stopping in his walk for a moment, then starts up again like nothing happened. He even smiles cheerily. “I sure was. I’ll tell you some more over our food, alright?”

They finally reach their destination. Sin enters the cuisines while Alibaba waits outside. He doesn’t see anyone else waiting for their food, so maybe they all have different lunch break periods? Or perhaps not everyone goes into the cuisine this way…

Although Alibaba stays outside and can’t quite hear clearly what happens inside, there is a sudden silence when Sin enters the cuisine, then followed with surprised and cheery exclamations of Sin’s name. Then, Alibaba loses track of what they’re saying completely, and only knows that they all sound joyful and excited.

Before long, Sin comes back out to the many goodbyes of the cooks inside. His face is sunny, and he’s carrying a large plate of food. “Alright. Ali, let’s go.”

Ali stares at the amount of food on the plate as they go. Are they going to eat with other people? There’s so much food.

Sin leads him to a room not too far away. Inside, there indeed are people: a pale man in green who seems to be suffering over a letter, and another man in golden armor with an intimidating glare. They both look up when Sin and Alibaba enter, but their gazes are neutral enough that Alibaba only twitches and doesn’t actually jump to hide behind Sin.

“Sin, you’re finally here,” the man in green gets up, and makes a strange motion like he wants to bow. Although he shows a neutral face to Sin, his expression softens into a smile when his eyes land on Alibaba. “You must be Ali. Sin has been blabbering about you for weeks now. Come on here, sit down.”

Alibaba is intimidated enough to die, but he accepts the suggestion and sits down next to the man in green. He suddenly feels like there’s a lot at stake with just this meal. What if Sin decides that he’s not good enough to keep, and sends him back to the streets? And why is he so nervous about that? He’s lived for so long on the streets, it’s fine if he has to go back there… It’s just that this is a good opportunity for more, nothing else.

“My name is Ja’far,” the man in green says gently. “Sin, you only got one plate?”

“I asked for them to send us another plate later. I think I got them by surprise.” He sits down next to Alibaba. “Ali, Ja’far looks scary but he’s actually kind. It’s just that his face grew up wrong—ow, ow, ow, Ja’far, stop pinching me.”

Indeed, Ja’far has reached over Ali to pinch Sin’s shoulder. His face remains angelic throughout the terrible pinching. “Sin, do you want me to cut off your tongue? You’re clearly the one with a face which is wrong.”

“What!” Sin pretends to be offended. “That’s not true! My face is handsome, many women have said so! Masrur, don’t you agree?” He turns to the man in golden armor.

Masrur gives Sin a placid stare, then very obviously looks at his face very carefully. After a long moment of silence as he comes to a decision, he turns his eyes away noncommittally.

While Sin lets out a pathetic, mournful wail about betrayal, Ja’far makes a small noise of victory. Alibaba finds himself dragged along the moment and a smile arises. Before he can think twice, he’s patting Sin gently on the forearm.

Sin turns to him with hopeful eyes.

With a soft and friendly voice, Alibaba employs all his features to look as childishly sincere and naive as possible, and says: “Saying you’re handsome is only to not hurt your feelings.”

Sin’s eyes shine with unshed dramatic tears, while Ja’far lets out a surprised laugh and Masrur a small huff of amusement.

They end up with so much food that it makes Alibaba’s head spins, but it seems that Masrur eats a lot. Sin explains to him that he has a fast and demanding metabolism, and so “has to be fed a lot.” Ja’far eyes him meanly and says that Sin also “has to be taken care of a lot,” especially in matters of “everything that concerns actually doing your work.”

Sin only smiles beatifically in response and says: “It’s because I can count on you so much!”

Masrur has to restrain Ja’far from jumping on Sin again. Alibaba silently cheers Ja’far on.

At the end of the meal, Alibaba stands at the doorway waiting for Sin to accompany him back (he insisted! Although… it’s not like Alibaba really knows the way back perfectly yet), while Sin and Ja’far talk in hushed voices. Masrur comes to stand next to Alibaba.

His height is intimidating, but Alibaba is starting to understand that he’s not truly that bad a guy. However, for someone who can fit in Sin and Ja’far’s dynamic so easily, he’s surprisingly silent. He compensates for that by being sincere and straightforward.

As the discussion between Ja’far and Sin starts to sound a bit heated again, Masrur looks down at Alibaba and asks simply: “Would you like to eat with us again? Next time.”

The question makes Ja’far and Sin whirl around to face them.

Alibaba looks in between all of them awkwardly. “That is… If it’s not too much trouble… I don’t really know where I’m supposed to eat otherwise.”

Sin explains quickly, “The cuisines we stopped at. If you need anything, even if it’s not during lunch or dinner hours, you can stop by there and they will give you something. I told them about you.”

...Alibaba looks away. Truthfully, he had suspected something like that. Even if he truly did not know at all where to find food, he could always have asked the Bookkeeper. That excuse was only an excuse to justify wanting to eat with them again. He can’t help it—so far, Sin is the only person he can truly rely on, and Ja’far and Masrur have been very friendly (and are Sin’s friends, which means he can trust them at least a little). “No… I meant…”

The atmosphere has become strange. Suddenly, Ja’far’s kind gaze, Masrur’s placid and neutral stare, and Sin’s friendly and reliable presence all feel oppressive. Even his breathing sounds too loud.

They’re all waiting for him to continue talking. The silence becomes unbearable. Alibaba ducks his head, thinks of all the way this could go wrong and all the consequences this could possibly have, and just runs out the door. “Thank you for the meal! See you later!”

…

“...Whoops.”

“You don’t say.” Ja’far collapses back into his chair with grace. “It was going well, too.”

“My bad, my bad. Ja’far, Masrur, thank you. I’m glad you got along so well with him.” Sinbad does his best to offer them his best smile. Although it didn’t end the way he wished, in the end this is still a success.

“To think you would even invite us to meet him…” Ja’far’s gaze is insistent. “Sin, is the kid truly that important to you?”

Sinbad grows pensive. It’s truly odd for him to want his generals to meet some kid he met on the streets… “I don’t know how to explain it. He’s just… Ali is important. To me. I can’t really explain why. I think, maybe… this feeling I hold toward him will even grow stronger in the future.” He’s even afraid that he will one day love Ali just as much as he loves his generals, like he’s family. Can he really afford to love someone so young and vulnerable?

Masrur comes to stand closer. “He is not bad.”

“You think so?” Sinbad almost feels like slumping with relief. “Ja’far, what do you think?”

Ja’far takes a moment to answer. “He’s certainly traumatized about something. He expects to be hit, especially with Masrur and I. It’s not as bad with you, but he did have moments when he looked at you like you were a threat. I don’t think he himself is a threat. Maybe he will bring one with him, someday, if the person who has hurt him in the past truly is that powerful…”

Having noticed this already, Sinbad nods along. “But…?”

Ja’far’s face relaxes. “ _But_ he is, indeed, not bad. I can see why you like him—it is easy to do so. He seems sincere, even if a bit awkward, and holds you in high regard even when he’s so wary. He fits in very nicely with our established dynamic, and I think the others will also like him. Sin, he doesn’t know who you are, right?”

“No, I really don’t think so.”

“He might be purposefully hiding every hint from himself,” Ja’far analyzes quickly. “He looked wary at every mention of your job or your position here. Maybe he fears that you are very powerful.” The fact that Ja’far is already spending so much effort on figuring out who hurt Ali in the past is a sign of how much he cares already—or maybe, how much he cares about Sinbad’s well-being.

“You think the person who hurt him in the past held a lot of power? That might become a problem…” 

Masrur shifts, catching their eyes. His quiet gaze makes Sinbad huff a laugh.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t lose sight of what’s important.”

…Now, which is more important in the end… Ali, or the diplomatic relationship with whoever hurt him? 

.

.

.

The next day (and the following days), Sin once again comes to the Library to invite him to lunch together. Although Alibaba has since learned how to find food on his own, since he eats dinner alone in his room, he still accepts every time. Masrur and Ja’far are not always both there, but Masrur accompanies Sin more often than not. One time, he is even the one to invite Alibaba to eat with him instead of Sin who is “paying for his laziness,” according to Masrur himself, and is thus too busy to even eat.

This continues on for a week or two, before something changes.

It begins as usual. Sin waits for him outside the library, and they begin on their way towards the cuisines. However, instead of explaining yet another side of Sindria’s history to him, Sin immediately tells him: “Some more people are joining us this time. They’re quite rowdy, but I promise they’re kind.”

Alibaba immediately grows tense, but he nods along silently. He wonders if these people used to eat with Sin and Ja’far and Masrur before he arrived here, and if they resent him for it. He thinks, if he were in their place, he would resent himself too.

Surprisingly, they don’t actually go to the cuisines, and instead head towards the lunch room directly. Even from outside with the door closed, Alibaba can hear rowdiness going on inside.

Sin opens the door.

“Try anything and I’ll throw you out the window.”

“Oh, come on! You’re too sensitive. I was just saying that if you let me play with it a little, I’m sure I could do something interesting…”

“As if someone like you could do anything! No! You’ll just break my equipment.”

“Alright, alright,” Sin exclaims brightly. “No more fighting, children.”

The man and woman who had been arguing both turn towards him with unwilling faces. “We’re not children,” they say in a mutual cold voice. Then, they notice Alibaba’s shy form behind Sin.

“Oh? Is that the kid you’ve been seeing?” the man, who has a tan skin and clothes that only vaguely look like those worn in Balbadd, asks as he shifts forward to get a closer look. “He doesn’t look like much.”

He’s immediately hit over the head by the woman, who has exotic blue hair and only wears seashells for a bra. Her face is reddened with anger. “You’re the one who doesn’t look like much.” Her expression when she turns towards Alibaba is certainly kinder. “You’re Ali, right? Don’t listen to this idiot,” she pinches the man’s ear and twists it to make him cry out dramatically. “I’m Yamuraiha. This idiot is Sharrkan. If he bothers you, come to me.”

Alibaba has never been addressed so kindly by a woman who was so beautiful and wasn’t his mother. He does his best not to flush or to appear shy.

“Why are you acting like you’re so great!” Sharrkan manages to escape the hold over his ear. “And why’d you have to introduce me like this! Hey kid, I’m Sharrkan. If you need anything, you come to _me_ , alright?”

“You!”

They begin squabbling again. Alibaba turns inquisitive eyes up towards Sin, who only looks amused.

“They’re actually quite smart when apart,” he says without even trying to be quiet. “But whenever they’re together in the same room, they become like children.”

Yamuraiha and Sharrkan don’t even protest the idea that they’re like children. They seem lost in their own little world.

Eventually, Ja’far and Masrur arrive, followed by two maids with flood platters. Yamuraiha and Sharrkan quiet down obediently with only one innocent look from Ja’far. They all sit down, and Ja’far gently starts asking his usual questions about how Alibaba’s day has gone so far, with occasional interjections from Sin. 

“You work in the library?” Yamuraiha visibly perks up at the idea. “That’s great! We’ll see each other sometimes, then. I often come there, although recently I haven’t really found the time. It’s a great place to be though, right?”

When Alibaba agrees with Yamuraiha, Sharrkan’s face sours just the slightest. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure, being book-smart is great and all, but true intelligence comes from strategy and training,” he says with false nonchalance. “Kid, you interested in swordplay?”

Alibaba, who has long since learned the swordplay of Balbadd’s royalty, takes a moment to remember his classes. They seem like they were long ago, yet in truth it has been less than a year. He nods to Sharrkan. The classes were fun, and the teacher never tried to belittle him in any way.

Sharrkan looks proud at Alibaba’s agreement. He turns a smug expression towards Yamuraiha.

Yamuraiha is more mature. She shows an unimpressed face. “Do you really need other people’s validation in order to convince me that swordplay is better than magic?”

Predictably, Sharrkan gets offended. Yamuraiha’s maturity ends here, and they begin squabbling again.

Truthfully, Alibaba would never have thought he could handle this. People fighting in front of him? He thought it would have sent him into the worst episode he could possibly have. But… in the end, Yamuraiha and Sharrkan have a way of fighting that is fundamentally friendly and trusting. They don’t come to blows, and only resort to pinching at the last resort. They speak loudly, but it’s always in mock offense and with some sort of hidden joy in there.

Plus, they are the farthest away from him possible. Sin and Ja’far are at his sides as usual.

In the end, they spend a nice time together. As Sin is accompanying him back to the Library, Alibaba finds the courage to tell him: “If there are other people you want to eat lunch with… please don’t refuse to do it just because of me.”

Sin seems to understand everything he means immediately. His hand ruffles his hair gently. “I got it. Ali, have fun, alright? I’ll come back tomorrow and tell you if we have more people with us.”

Alibaba pretends he’s not flushed with pleasure as he hurries inside.

…

He does meet more people: a timid man named Spartos, a cheerful and excitable girl-who-is-actually-a-woman named Pisti, a scary but kind large man named Hinahoho, and a dragon-like man named Drakon.

Spartos is a quiet man not unlike Masrur, except with a face that tells his feelings quite easily. He greets Alibaba with a few short words, but his expression is so open and kind that no sense of threat is conveyed by him.

Pisti is cheerful and has the deceptive appearance of someone just a bit older than him, which makes him believe she’s another kid Sin befriended until he notices that Spartos calls her respectfully. Even then, he’s not exactly sure how old she is, or if she’s really a child or not. Her character is also not bad, and she seems to take great pleasure in bothering and teasing everyone she can. She even teases Alibaba a few times: about the confused look on his face, about his attempts not to hurt either Sharrkan’s or Yamuraiha’s feelings, etc.

Hinahoho is a giant who tells him he’s from the Imuchakk tribe. When Alibaba expresses some curiosity about that, he begins to excitedly tell him all about his culture, then badgers Alibaba about how his living accommodations are, then starts again about his culture, then scold Sin about not giving Alibaba enough, then continues about the Imuchakk, then tells Alibaba about his own family, then… It’s an endless cycle, and Alibaba even has to resort to sending wide eyes at Sin and Ja’far in order to be saved.

Drakon is… a dragon-human hybrid? Alibaba never asks outright out of politeness, but Drakon still soon tells him that he himself isn’t sure why his body became like this. He’s a rather quiet person, but not in the same sense as Masrur (who simply doesn’t like to talk) or Spartos (who isn’t used to talking). Although it’s hard to read his facial features, his body language quickly becomes awkward when Alibaba comes near him, and sometimes his mouth opens and closes multiple times without anything coming our in the end. Is he unused to children?

All the while, Sin always stays by his side.

This merry band of people is intimidating at first, especially when he notices how full the room has gotten. However, with time, Alibaba realizes that they are not truly bad, although the wariness still remains (and doubles every time he stands behind the doors and has not yet seen or heard their simple joy at seeing him again).

…Of course, Alibaba is not dumb.

He realizes very quickly that these people are Sindria’s Eight Generals. The thought never fails to make his scalp tingle with uneasiness. Why are these people so close to Sin?

Could it be that… that Sin is…

…No way. Alibaba willfully shuts the thought away.

He can hardly believe how much his life has changed since he met Sin and accepted his offer. He no longer hungers for days on end, no longer shivers from lack of shelter, no longer fears some madman will kill him in his sleep. Instead, he’s warm and content, and even has the privilege of forming close relationships with people who are kind and don’t hurt him.

He’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Truthfully, with how much joy he’s been able to save up till now, he wouldn’t mind too much if Sin decided that he needed to suffer to repay him.

The Palaces are big and surprisingly welcoming, and before long Alibaba begins to think of his room as home. Sin is kind, the Generals are kind, the Bookkeeper is kind.

He even manages to befriend a young maid who’s just a few years older than him. Her name is Suha, and she is also kind in a simple way, like there’s not even a question of being kind or not. She gives Alibaba tips on how to clean up the library, then shows him around their Tower and even invites him to her favorite spots. Although it’s impossible to eat lunch together, they once or twice eat dinner together. Sharrkan somehow learns about it and teases him about his “girlfriend” until Alibaba snaps and asks him when he and Yamuraiha are getting married.

His days in Sindria’s Palace are peaceful and joyful: mornings and afternoons spent working in the library, noon time with Sin’s group of friends, evenings spent chatting with Suha…

Alibaba prays, against fate itself, that it will never change.

.

.

.

It’s Suha who first tells him about it.

“The Harvest Festival is coming soon!” she explains. “A few times a year, there are some really big fish that try to attack Sindria, but our Generals save us and give us their meat to organize a big feast instead! We’re never sure when it actually happens, but there’s been talk of some disturbances not too far away, so I think it will be soon!”

Alibaba is curious and Suha is a blabbermouth, so she spends the evening telling him all about it.

The next day, as he is walking with Sin towards the usual lunch room, he mentions the Harvest Festival and what Suha told him about it.

“...I heard the King will be here.”

The words come out without his will, and he finds his eyes stuck on Sin’s face, waiting for his reaction. Anticipation and hope make his heart beat a thousand times too fast, and his hands have been clammy ever since he heard about the King’s possible presence.

Sin only hums, not even glancing at him. His face does not change. “Is that so?”

Something horrible and not unlike disappointment and betrayal curls in Alibaba’s stomach. He looks ahead too. “That’s what Suha told me. She also said…” He continues talking about some more nonsense, but in truth he’s not listening to his own words anymore.

Sin can’t be King Sinbad. He would have told him, right? Right then, Alibaba gave him the opportunity to say it. He would have… He would have…

Alibaba says, with a voice that sounds normal but feels like is not his own: “I won’t go, I can’t handle crowds like that.”

He can’t quite explain Sin’s reaction to that. He looks both relieved and disappointed, before everything is masked by his usual smile. “That’s too bad. I wish I could have showed you around.” He doesn’t fight his decision any more, like he would have usually.

Alibaba goes silent.

He does his best to continue acting as usual during lunch, but by Ja’far’s quick glances, he thinks perhaps he has not managed to act entirely unbothered. Sin acts the same as usual, and so do the others. Somehow, he feels wrong, like he’s not supposed to be there. These people are too strong, too important to spend time with him. Has he been bothering them this whole time?

At the end of the meal, Alibaba has reached a decision. He _idly_ mentions Suha again to Ja’far and how she asked him if they could eat lunch together. Ja’far kindly tells him that he can invite her with him next time, but Alibaba refuses and claims it’s because they’re too intimidating for her.

Ja’far pauses, at that. “If you’re sure.”

There’s something a bit strange in his voice. Maybe he’s relieved that they won’t have to bear his presence anymore, maybe he feels that Alibaba is being ungrateful. He can’t tell. He can’t remember how he allowed himself to grow so comfortable with these people. 

Sin is being bothered by Pisti, so Alibaba quickly slips out before he can offer to accompany back to the library. The walk back is silent and lonely.

That evening, he pretends to not be hungry and keeps some food on the side. Suha teases him about being stick-like.

The next day, at lunch, he slips out of the library just a bit earlier than usual, and is relieved to find that Sin is not here yet—he’s not sure if Ja’far told him about eating lunch with Suha instead, and he doesn’t want to find out. He goes to his room and eats the leftovers. 

When he slips back into the library, the Bookkeeper sends him a cool look. “You just missed him. He waited for a while.”

The guilt makes him slink behind a bookshelf. Ja’far must not have told him, then. Alibaba doesn’t think he has the stomach to face any of them right now. He wonders if he could bring lunch inside the library instead and slip out the window if need be. 

…

He does eventually come back to eat lunch with them again, a few times a week. 

Every time, without fail, there’s someone to whine and complain about how lonely they are without him there, and that Sin looked like a “kicked puppy” or a “deflated pufferfish” (whatever that means). Then, they continue on like nothing ever changed. 

Alibaba feels out of place everywhere now. Even his room, which he considered “home” for a moment, is beginning to feel like a waiting room until he’s thrown back out. Thinking back of how he felt not too long ago, so comfortable and warm, he wonders if there was something wrong with his brain. Someone like him will never belong here, just like he never belonged in Balbadd’s Palace.

Sin tries a few times to make him talk about what bothers him, but Alibaba always finds an excuse to run away.

The day of the Harvest Festival comes quick. Alibaba hears about it through the Bookkeeper, who tells him not to wait for Sin today as he and his group will be busy with preparations. Alibaba is only a bit bothered by that, as his leftover from dinner last night are not too great, but he complies easily.

Suha comes to the library at the end of his work hours to badger him into going to the central place with her, as it is where the Festival mainly takes place. “I’ll show you where King Sinbad is, too! You know, he’s really close to us citizens, especially when he’s in Sindria and not abroad.” Then, she gives him a small list of everything great about King Sinbad.

Alibaba smiles and nods at all appropriate places, and is indeed genuinely amazed by how good King Sinbad is, but he feels sick with dread and anticipation, and can barely remember how to place one foot in front of the other. 

It’s already starting to darken outside, but the streets are lively and lit with fierce fires. The inhabitants cry and shout in joy, not a place is without some drunk dancing or making a spectacle of themselves. The smell of food and alcohol permeates the whole city, and stands of fruits and vegetables and meat and fish line up the sides of the central place. 

In one corner, Suha shows him a theater where the actors reproduce one of King Sinbad’s many adventures. In another corner, another scene where lively and beautiful women (and some men too!) dance to the cheers of spectators. He thinks he can see one of Pisti’s animal roaring at amazed and cooing citizens while Pisti’s voice loudly explains how awesome her little baby is. Yamuraiha and Sharrkan are fighting again, showing off their skills. Hinahoho is with his many children and his sister, who is pestering Spartos into drinking alcohol. Drakon is with a woman whom he thinks might be the wife he mentioned a few times. Masrur is showing off his muscles to excited children. Ja’far is talking to someone who might be a diplomat from another country.

“Oh! Oh! Ali, look!” Suha is tugging on his arm. “That’s him! Our King Sinbad!”

Alibaba turns to look, slowly.

It’s him.

A man. Purple hair and golden eyes, dressed in simple yet refined clothes. A mountain of jewelry around his neck and his head and his arms and fingers.

A man who spent days after days sitting down next to some terrified street rat by the sea, who offered slices of fruit to a brat who couldn’t even thank him properly, who gave so much to a random kid and expected nothing in exchange.

This man…

_He knows._

He has to know. Why else would he spend so much time and effort and money on a random street rat he found? Even simple kindness has a limit. 

_Why do you help me?_ Alibaba had wanted to ask so many times, but had bitten his tongue in fear that it would make him decide not to help anymore. But now, it’s so obvious.

He knows. He knows. He knows. 

_HE KNOWS!!!_

He barely hears Suha’s startled cry after him, as he runs away as fast as he can. 

So stupid! So stupid! How could he ever expect something to be so good without consequences? Without a good reason? Damn it! Damn it! Damn him and his stupidity! He didn’t want to believe. He wished that Sin truly had no relation with King Sinbad. Look at where this idiocy got him!

Is King Sinbad planning on using him as a bargaining chip? Or maybe, raise him and endear himself to him, and then slip him back into a position of power in Balbadd in order to subtly take over Balbadd? Maybe he wants to sell him back to… or to some slave traders who’ll pay big for a King’s son? 

So stupid! So stupid!

And the Generals, oh what they must think of him. Some foolish kid who smiled and laughed with them, unknowing that he was just some tool used by their King. How they must have laughed when they saw him look up at Sin with such obvious admiration and—love.

There’s no one more at fault than him in this matter. He realized that this scenario was more than possible, yet he still allowed himself to… to grow to  _love_ Sin. Someone he thought as a protector, a caregiver. Someone he thought his mother would have loved as well. Someone his father would have approved of. Someone Kassim and Mariam could have relied on, too. Someone he could have… he could have called… 

It doesn’t matter. None of it does.

Sin… King Sinbad… he… 

Alibaba obviously can’t escape. He doesn’t think he wants to, even. In the end, whether he’s been thoroughly betrayed or not, he still loves Sin. He loves the Generals, too. He likes Suha, and the Bookkeeper. He loves Sindria. He doesn’t want to leave, even if it means closing his eyes over everything Sin might be planning for him. 

He will just have to pretend that…

Alibaba finally manages to get his breathing under control to realize that he’s back in the room given to him. He collapses on the bed, but it feels too open so he opens the wardrobe and curls up inside instead. 

There, in the darkness, he whispers the same words until he can almost convince himself they’re true: “Sin is not King Sinbad. Sin is not King Sinbad. Sin is not…”


	2. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Monte Christo I finally did it TToTT to be fair, I did say that I was hoping to finish it before the end of this year, and we're still in october. aka, I still have time :) !!!!!!!  
> I tried to upload this chapter like 3 times and my internet crashed 3 times. hehe. Love that.
> 
> WARNINGs: Alibaba gets sick (fever?), though the sickness is not specified. Later in the chapter, some PTSD episodes (I think they're called that)? They happen when Alibaba tries to talk about what happened, so as soon as you see that, you can skip ahead until there's a . linebreak ^^

After the Harvest Festival, Sinbad comes to the library for lunch only to be told that Ali didn’t even come to work this morning.

“Did you tell him?” the bookkeeper asks, arms crossed. “Heavens, you must have broken his heart. That poor child, he doesn’t deserve being treated like this.”

Sinbad wants to get defensive but knows he deserves being scolded. “I didn’t tell him. He didn’t want to come to the Festival, so there was no reason to. Did you send someone to his room to check?”

The bookkeeper thought Ali was simply crying over being heartbroken, so she didn’t send for anyone. Sinbad thanks her and begins speed-walking towards Ali’s room.

Did Ali decide to come to the Harvest after all? Did he see Sinbad up there in his throne? Heavens, he should have told him, but… He just wants a little more time, before Ali becomes afraid and begins to avoid him even more. The kid is already so scared of them, if he learns who Sin is he will just run away every time he approaches. Heavens, how this kid has him wrapped around his finger.

He soon reaches Ali’s room.

“Ali, you alright?” he asks as he enters the room. There’s no answer, the bed is empty. When he lays a hand on it, the sheets are cold. “Ali? Are you here?” He peers under the bed, behind the curtains, then opens the wardrobe. “Oh, Ali…”

There he is, curled up and unconscious, hidden away in the darkness of the wardrobe, still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

Sinbad picks him up and lays him down on the bed, placing his limbs as comfortably as he can and hiking up the sheets to cover him warmly. He checks for a fever, and is not surprised to find that Ali feels hot to the touch. He must have caught a cold from staying in the wardrobe for so long.

“Ali? Ali, can you hear me?” Softly tapping his cheek doesn’t seem to help. “It seems you’ve fallen sick. I’m gonna be right back, alright? I just have to get you a healer and warn the others that we’re not coming today, hm?”

Ali does not answer. His face is flushed and his hair in disarray. The dark _whatever_ he puts in his hair is already rubbing off. He still looks unhealthily thin, and there’s a sickly shade to his skin.

Sinbad leaves and quickly comes back, followed by a healer and the few Generals who caught him in his hurry back to Ali.

The healer tells them that Ali fell sick due to the cold, but also the amount of stress put on both his body and his mind. “I can only wager he finally let himself take a break and fall sick, when he’d been holding it back for so long,” she explains. “He’s been starved and dehydrated in the past, and he’s still under that strain now. And those scars on his body… Your Majesty, is there any luck you’ve already dealt with whoever hurt this child?”

Sinbad is regretful to admit he has not, yet.

The healer prescribes a small mountain of healing creams, a dozen or so herbal teas to reduce the fever, and a strict-loose diet. When Yamuraiha tries to use magic to heal Ali, the healer stops her.

“It’s healthier if you let him heal naturally. His body has to actually recuperate, and I’m afraid if he becomes conscious again so soon he will begin holding it all back again and pretend everything is alright.”

This scenario does sound like something Ali would do. Yamuraiha wisely stops and instead worries over her staff, sitting at Ali’s bedside. Ja’far lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. They thank the healer, and they leave with one last reminder about how much rest Ali needs.

“Sin…” Ja’far’s gaze is heavy on him. “Did he come to the Festival, in the end?”

Sinbad sighs, and shakes his head slowly. “Not that I know of. Did Masrur tell you anything?”

Ja’far’s expression grows exasperated and stressed. “Pisti got him drunk, so I’m not sure. He didn’t notice Ali anywhere, though.”

Yamuraiha looks between the two of them slowly, like she’s trying to figure out something. “...Your Majesty, you still haven’t… told him?”

Standing up and sitting down on Ali’s bed, Sinbad brushes back the kid’s hair to show his heated and flushed face. He rubs a strand of hair between his fingers. Underneath the black dye, the strands appear to be a muddy sort of brown… Ali must be naturally blond, then. “No, I haven’t told him.”

Yamuraiha and Ja’far’s expressions are unnaturally blank, clearly not approving but still trusting his decision.

“When will you tell him, then?”

Ali shifts in his sleep. Unconsciously, he nuzzles into the hand cupping his cheek, seeking comfort.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

.

The first time he wakes up, Sinbad is in the room with him, reading over some missives he received recently. Balbadd seems to be in a state of urgency and has been so for the past year or so already, although he’s not entirely sure why since his mentor has yet to release any concrete information about what happened. Ja’far told him that a royal family member had disappeared, but the question of which one remains…

“Hmm… hn? Si— Sin…?”

Sinbad looks up.

Ali is blinking dazedly at him, eyes unfocused and teary. Small moans and sighs seem to come out of him unconsciously. “Sin…? What’s… Where…”

“Ali,” Sinbad straightens. The sigh he lets out in relief is loud enough that it makes Ali look at him in confusion and worry. “How are you feeling? Are you thirsty?”

Ali accepts his help with drinking some water with only the barest of complaining. He casts his eyes around the room, and looks a bit surprised to find out he’s still in his own room. “What… happened…?”

“You collapsed, from a fever,” Sinbad informs gently, helping Ali lay back down comfortably. “The healer told us you’ve been under a lot of pressure recently… In the future, know that you can ask for help if you don’t feel well.”

Ali nods obediently, but doesn’t seem to really understand him. As he’s just rearranging the pillow under Ali’s head, the kid’s eyes widen and his expression shifts into something horrified. There’s a brief struggle as he moves to quickly sit up and throw himself halfway into Sinbad’s lap. “Please! Please don’t! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll do better…!” His eyes remain unfocused and glassy, and the sickly clamor to his skin becomes flushed with the fever.

“Ali?” Sinbad admits to being startled at this sudden shift in composure. He quickly grasps Ali’s body and tucks him back under the covers, making comforting noises. Ali insists on holding his wrist, so he allows it. “Ali, calm down, I promise I won’t hurt you. You have nothing to fear with me.”

Shaking and shivering with faraway eyes, Ali is nearly sobbing with whatever trauma has come up. “Please… Please… Sin… Please don’t let them hurt me…”

Sin decides to sit directly on the bed. Ali immediately crawls up to sob into his lap, so he uses a hand to gently caress his hair and the other to rub comforting circles onto the arm he has around Sinbad’s waist. “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise I’ll protect you. We all will.”

Ali barely seems to hear him. His sobs are quiet and held back at times, and then loud and hitched at others. He holds Sinbad like he’s afraid he will go.

Eventually the position turns out to be too awkward for Sinbad’s neck, so he rearranges them until they’re both lying down and he’s hugging Ali’s little body. Soon, wetness stains the base of his neck and his collarbone. One hand comes up to caress the kid’s hair again, while the other holds him close to his chest.

He’s not sure exactly when Ali’s body grows limp and his sobs reduce to little, unconscious sniffles. Even in his sleep, Ali is shivering and murmuring pleas for mercy, for help. Sinbad’s hand has been stained by the darkness Ali puts in his hair, and both his shirt and his lap are uncomfortably wet.

Soon, Ja’far will come in to check in on him and his work. Sinbad doesn’t quite yet want to get out of the bed. He feels exhausted.

“Ali… what happened to you?”

.

This type of incident happens again, over the next two weeks.

Sometimes, when Sinbad himself isn’t here, the others have to step in: Masrur has to strip of his usual, hard armor in order to hug the boy to sleep; Pisti summons one of her fluffy tamed beasts to act as a big plushie for the boy; Sharrkan lulls the boy into a relaxed state with stories of his achievements, helped with the light and airy atmosphere Yamuraiha creates with her magic; Spartos sings him lullabies until someone enters the room and he stops with a flushed face; Hinahoho, who is an expert in all things children, is able to calm him down easily and even induce him into somewhat of a lucid conversation, where they talk about what weather they prefer this time a year.

Once, Ja’far helps Sinbad reassure Ali that he is safe here with them. It seems the additional voice helps. Afterwards, Ja’far looks at the unconscious Ali for a long time, trying to find clues about what could have possibly happened to him.

Finally, on a day where both Ja’far and Masrur are here (as they have taken to do in order to make sure he actually completes his work instead of worrying himself sick over Ali), Ali wakes up again.

Sinbad has since learned the signs of Ali’s awakenings. At the first sound of sheets ruffling, he looks over to see that Ali is already blinking himself awake.

“Hey there Ali,” he says softly, already going over to sit on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm…? Sin?” Ali sits up quickly once he realizes who is in the room. His face is flushed and confused, hair in disarray. “Ja’far? Masrur? What… This is…”

Ja’far hands him a glass of water, hand lingering. “You’ve been sick for the past two weeks or so. Drink slowly. Are you hungry?”

Ali looks and acts dazed, but he obediently answers that he is indeed hungry, and thanks Ja’far for the water. Then, he looks at Sinbad for answers.

“Why don’t you lie back down instead?” Sinbad says instead. “You gave us quite a fright. Did the loud noises scare you? I found you in the wardrobe.”

This is new information to Ja’far and Masrur, who send him contrite looks. It does, indeed, sound quite bad. Even before his fever, something scared Ali so bad that he felt he had to hide in the wardrobe. Or is it a common occurrence?

Ali stays silent for a long moment, he looks at all of them slowly, a furrow appearing between his brows. “I… I don’t… I don’t know…? Why…” He opens and closes his mouth, then finally listens to Sin’s advice and lies back down. “I think… yes, I must have been…” He stops.

“Can you tell us what happened to frighten you?” He hopes he isn’t being too pressuring.

Ali squeezes his eyes shut repeatedly, body twitching nervously. “I don’t… Please don’t… I don’t know, I don’t know... What happened? Did something happen...? Is everyone alright?”

“We’re all fine, just a bit worried about you.”

Ali’s eyes linger onto Sinbad’s face, obviously unconvinced but too tired to fight it. At his words though, he suddenly startles. “…Are you going to get rid of me?” It seems that he's still weakened enough by the fever. He would truly never be this open with his feelings with a clear head.

Past the slump of Ja’far’s shoulders and Masrur’s slow blink, Sinbad doesn’t allow the question to sit. He immediately answers with a simple, brief “No.”

“You won’t…?” He doesn’t protest when Sinbad takes his hand and squeezes it tightly. Instead, a slow, timid smile grows on his flushed face, eyes half-lidded. “Thank you. I really… I’m really…”

He falls unconscious before he can finish the sentence. Sinbad only lets go of his hand in order to brush back his hair. Ali’s breathing is regular yet slow, like it’s hard work to even breathe.

The silence continues until Sinbad finally finds the strength to stand up. Ja’far and Masrur are waiting patiently for his decision, but he finds himself unsure. One last look at his kid’s face settles it for him.

“Ja’far, Masrur. Let’s work hard to find out who hurt our kid.”

“Understood, Your Majesty.”

.

.

.

It takes forever for Sin to finally let him go back to work.

No matter how much Alibaba complains about being coddled, or how many times he tries to persuade Sin that he’s fine enough to at least _walk_ to the library, Sin insists on making him stay in bed a while longer. He allows him to go outside, at least, although he’s always accompanied by someone Sin knows well—that is to say, one of the Eight Generals, which is… They must be so annoyed, at having to spend so much time with a brat!

Although he’d woken up multiple times during those three weeks of illness, it was only once his fever broke that Alibaba remembers who Sin is.

King Sinbad! King Sinbad of Sindria is sitting at his bedside and making cooing noises as he tries to feed Alibaba! Spoon-feeding him and pretending to be a worried mother! King Sinbad!!!

Alibaba combusts on the spot, watching with wide eyes. He mouths words without anything coming out, and then guiltily accepts the spoonfuls of food King Sinbad gives him.

After his realization, Alibaba tried his best to be more distant and respectful with King Sinbad, but also tried not to make it too obvious that he knew that he is being deceived. If King Sinbad realizes that Alibaba knows, then won’t he stop being so warm and friendly? Alibaba doesn’t want it to end, so he pretends, too.

All of the Eight Generals scold him at least once, and so does Sinbad. He opens his wardrobe once to find that it has been filled with warmer clothes, and there is a small mattress on the bottom—do they think that he just… sleeps in his wardrobe? In their defense, he has not once explained why he was in the wardrobe that day. He does not dare lie, as he knows that they are more than experienced and would most likely see through him immediately.

Perhaps they also know that he knows…?

Pisti cries once, blabbering about how lonely and cold Alibaba must have been to sleep in the wardrobe. Alibaba (and Spartos) forgets that Pisti is not really a child and tries to reassure her.

In response, Pisti’s tears immediately dry up and she says brightly: “How about we do sleepovers from now on then?”

King Sinbad nods approvingly, snapping his fingers like it’s a brilliant idea. “Wonderful, Pisti. Ali, you don’t mind, right?”

Are they trying to get a 24/24h watch on him…? Alibaba is too flustered and confused by the sudden shift in mood to disagree in full words, and instead stutters: “I… No…? Wait…”

“Great! It’s decided then! I get the first shift,” his face turns entirely serious and challenging as he says so, turning towards the Eight Generals.

The Eight Generals have varying reactions: Ja’far looks annoyed but not surprised, Spartos is confused, Masrur is judgmental, Sharrkan is _very_ judgmental but also amused, Yamuraiha is sheepishly smiling towards Alibaba, Hinahoho is amused and approving, Drakon sighs long-suffering, and Pisti issues a look just as challenging as King Sinbad’s.

“Not if I fight you on it,” Pisti is already taking out her whistle to call upon her familiars.

Ja’far snatches it out of her hand, vein on his forehead pulsing, a tight smile on his face. “No. Fighting. Sin, you…” He sighs. “We’ll take turns depending on our schedules, and only if Ali agrees.”

They all collectively turn towards Alibaba, who is flushing a deep red and trying to hide behind King Sinbad. “I don’t… That’s… I…” He looks up just in time to catch King Sinbad’s eye.

There’s a moment of complete silence, as whatever expression is on Alibaba’s face makes King Sinbad’s eyes widen and mouth drop. Then, his eyes grow steely, and he crosses his arms, facing the Eight Generals again. “I changed my mind. I’m taking all the shifts.”

“What? Not fair!” Pisti cries, followed by some of the others. Alibaba wants to cry, too.

“Wait, he didn’t agree…” Ja’far tries to protest, but it’s drowned out by the protests of the other Generals, who accuse King Sinbad of being selfish.

In that moment of playful and familiar chaos, Alibaba looks up through his lashes again, to find that King Sinbad appears satisfied, eyes curled up in happiness. He notices Alibaba looking and lays a comforting hand on top of his head, ruffling his hair just the slightest.

Alibaba knows. He knows that Sin is King Sinbad and that it’s improper for him to be so close to him, that there is surely something at play here that he can’t see, that Sin is using or planning to use him in some way, but…

At that moment, Alibaba feels only comfort and security from that hand. Knowing all these things, he inches ever so closer to King Sinbad.

.

Ja’far eventually manages to get everyone back into order, scolds them with all the intimidation of an ex-assassin, and compromises by allowing them to spend evenings with Alibaba (after he agrees to it) instead of whole nights.

Since he now spends his evenings with King Sinbad or one of his Generals (Suha dropped her dinner when she opened the door and found King Sinbad there, though she quickly pretended she was only startled to find someone other than Alibaba here), Alibaba’s schedule has changed also.

Their own schedules must not be too bad, since they spend a lot of time getting Alibaba to visit every last spot of Sindria.

Yamuraiha uses magic to bring Alibaba up high in the sky with her, and they watch the citizens mill up and around like busy ants, observing the way the city organizes itself. If she’s feeling playful or if Alibaba bothers her enough, she even agrees to doing wonderful loops and up-and-downs high in the sky, letting him grip her tightly around the waist and squeal in delight. She always lets out a loud and carefree laugh, by the end.

Sharrkan brings him to the training grounds, where they study swordsmanship. Once, Alibaba even gathers the courage to try his hand at it again. Sharrkan’s gaze grows strange, then, and he asks if Alibaba has ever held a sword before. Alibaba says that he liked to play pretend when little, always carrying a long stick and swinging it around like it was a sword. To his immense relief, Sharrkan smiles and teases him about his childhood dreams, and that’s the end of that.

Pisti either brings him to bars or to her collection of creatures. In the bars, she offers a bunch of drinks to all the customers, then cheers them on to sing, dance, or tell a story. Although Alibaba doesn’t much like the smell of alcohol, the carefree attitude of the drunks is always cheerful. When she brings him to her creatures, her little proud face as Alibaba lets out noises of awe is heartwarming. Once or twice, they end up rolled up on a purring mountain of fur and feathers.

Spartos is quiet and dutiful and doesn’t seem to know how to relax and have fun, so it’s usually Alibaba himself who drags him around. If the sea is calm, they will go by the harbor to watch the late fishermen come back home in the soothing music of the waves. If the sea is agitated, they will instead find a part of Sindria where people come and go and chatter away.

Hinahoho has a large family, and he takes immense pleasure in making Alibaba meet each of his relatives: his sister, his two sons and two daughters, and even the grave of his late wife. They all greet him warmly, and playing with the children reminds him so much of his childhood in Balbadd’s streets that he— ends up crying a few times, without quite knowing why. Hinahoho only pats his back comfortingly, and doesn’t question him.

Drakon is the General Alibaba is the least familiar with. He remains wary and distant until a woman appears suddenly at Drakon’s side, and introduces herself as his wife, Sahel. Sahel gifts him stories after stories of Drakon and his friends’ adventures in their youth. In the end, it’s her who takes care of Alibaba the most, while Drakon offers quiet but thoughtful input every so often.

Masrur tends to follow Sinbad wherever he goes, as he is technically his bodyguard (although Alibaba is not supposed to know that). The way he holds himself can be imposing at first, but Alibaba has long since learned that Masrur is a kind soul. He often drags him to the peaceful spots he’s found around Sindria: quiet alcoves by the sea, a rock that protects them from the sun, sometimes a place where the birds sing playfully. Alibaba takes immense pride in managing to get a smile out of Masrur.

Ja’far is a rather busy man, and thus spends most of his time running around making sure everything in the Palace runs smoothly. The rest of the time, he is at Sin’s side, or in his own office, working over paperwork he needs to complete. Alibaba makes sure to stay quiet and obedient in order not to bother him—which in turn seems to bother Ja’far, who sometimes suddenly decides to go out and do an extravagantly childish activity with him. Perhaps, he’s worried about how un-childish Alibaba is.

Sinbad, on the other hand, is far more childish than Alibaba himself. He likes to wreak havoc, causing mischief, flirting around, playing with children, avoiding his responsibilities (and causing Ja’far undue stress). It always manages to surprise Alibaba, the easy relationship between King Sinbad and his subjects. They indulge him, and he indulges them in return. He can’t ever imagine King Rashid acting like this—perhaps walking in the streets, yes, but never chatting comfortably with farmers and fishermen, inquiring about the recent harvests or their cute newborns.

He thinks, if he somehow, by some miracle, had become Balbadd’s heir… he would have worked his hardest to become a king like Sinbad.

It’s a bit awkward to spend time with Sinbad now, to be entirely honest. Although he had resolved himself to act more proper with King Sinbad, in the end he can’t help but fall back on old habits and act improper. Of course, Sinbad never says anything about that. He seems more at ease when Alibaba acts like he did before.

There must still be some senseless hope in Alibaba, because he finds himself looking at Sinbad enviously whenever a citizen forgets the Big Secret and says “Your Majesty.” Sinbad pretends not to see. Alibaba continues to wait for the truth.

Regardless of Alibaba’s own disturbed feelings, he continues to act oblivious, and never once refuses to walk with King Sinbad.

  
  


It’s upon one of those walks that it happens.

At first, Alibaba thinks he’s hallucinating. That it can’t possibly be true.

A timbre of voice. Familiar.

Alibaba stops short in his tracks, turns sharply. Is he dreaming?

A shape far away. One of a boy, thin and somewhat muscular, taller than him by half a head. A small scar under his chin, from falling there when they were playing, three years ago. Mom had screamed at the first sight of blood, then laughed when they had explained. Even Mariam had flushed in amusement. Kassim had been flustered for the following two weeks.

Sin has stopped walking, too. He questions, “Ali?”

But Alibaba can’t hear him over the sound of his own heartbeat. Even uncaring of making a scene, he runs and waves his arm wildly, calling out: “Kassim! Kassim!”

Kassim! It’s Kassim!

The boy turns around to face him. His eyes are wide. The skin on his face and arms is rough and dirty. There’s still a small scar under his chin. He looks even taller than before, a bit less gaunt. Still sporting the same hairstyle.

“You!” he exclaims.

Before Alibaba had called out, he had been transporting merchandise for a ship nearby. As he sees Alibaba run towards him, he hurries to lay everything down and then turns towards him.

Alibaba reaches him quickly. He jumps into his arms.

Kassim welcomes him with open arms. He spins him around. It must be the shock. Even when they were young, at the strongest of their relationship, he would never have allowed Alibaba to act this affectionate and familiar—would have let Alibaba crash onto the floor, even.

He’s not saying a word, but Alibaba laughs joyfully. He leans back to peer at his brother’s face, marvels at the way time has shaped him.

“Kassim… you’re really here?”

Kassim doesn’t answer for a moment, wide eyes roving over Alibaba’s face like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. There’s something a bit wild in his expression. His grip on Alibaba’s waist grows tighter.

“...Kassim?”

His brother finally removes his hands from around Alibaba. He crosses his arms, trying to look tough, but his eyes still go up and down to check Alibaba’s body. It’s an old habit, from the days when they were even younger and easy targets for thieves and aggressors.

“You’re… Alibaba…” He suddenly stops himself, gaze snapping up behind him.

Steps come behind Alibaba. He immediately recognizes the weight and sequence as Sinbad’s.

“Ah, Sin…” Alibaba twists around awkwardly to get both Kassim and King Sinbad in his field of vision, afraid that Kassim would run away without a word, and terrified to miss any negative expression on King Sinbad’s face. “Um, this is… this is my brother…”

A moment of silence, as both Kassim and King Sinbad look at him, incredulous.

“Your brother…?” King Sinbad observes Kassim with a neutral smile. “What might your name be, young man?”

Kassim observes him back with feigned disinterest, taking in the rich clothes, the posture, the accent—everything that clearly indicates how rich and important this man is. He begins to say: “Alib—“

Alibaba cries out before he finishes. “Kassim!” Then, thinking quickly, feeling King Sinbad’s gaze on them but also knowing that Kassim could snap at any moment, he continues: “I know you’re probably confused about what happened. How about I explain it to you while I guide you around the city? Sindria has many beautiful sights, I’m sure you’ll be interested.”

Although they have argued a lot in the past, Kassim is still his brother. Spending so many years together, it’s not surprising that he quickly understands what Alibaba is desperately trying to achieve. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Fine, fine. I’ll hear you out.”

Feeling so relieved that his knees tremble a little, Alibaba directs a reassuring smile towards King Sinbad. “Sin, I’m sorry, can I stay alone with my brother for a while? It’s been so long since I’ve seen him… I’ll come back to my room before it’s completely dark,” he assures.

King Sinbad blinks at him. “Ali, you needn’t even ask for my permission. It’s a shame we didn’t get to spend more time together, but meeting your brother again is certainly a miracle.” He smiles. “You boys have fun, then.”

This goodbye is anticlimactic. Alibaba feels sweat going down his temple as he impatiently watches King Sinbad walk away.

He turns back to see that Kassim is staring at him with a familiar, frustrated face. With yet a word of accusation passed between them, Alibaba already feels close to tears. He tries not to let it show.

“Kassim, I…”

“Save your words,” Kassim snaps. There’s a small tremble to his voice. He’s relieved to find Alibaba, yet still angry. It contrasts with the obvious care with which he received Alibaba’s hug earlier.

Alibaba wisely shuts his mouth.

His brother crosses his arms. “Mariam is here too. What’s with this ridiculous get up? Your hair looks more gray than black.”

“As long as it is not blond… My eyes are noticeable enough.” Alibaba replies softly. “Is Mariam well?”

Kassim scoffs, and he whirls around without another word. Alibaba understands and follows him.

.

Mariam is in the deeper parts of the city, apparently in the process of trying to find a job. Kassim doesn’t sound proud when he explains it—it must be a blow to his pride as a big brother to know he has to make his fragile little sister work in order to survive. 

“You need to be careful with that here,” Alibaba advises, trying to keep up with Kassim’s rapid pace. “The people here will try to send you to an orphanage if they realize you don’t have a home.”

Kassim sounds bitter as he answers: “You mean just like that man who was with you? He your new dad?”

“S-Sin?” Alibaba’s voice cracks on the name. He coughs to muffle his embarrassment. “N-no! It’s nothing like that… He just takes care of me, is all…” He shuffles closer to Kassim, leaning into him to whisper: “Actually, that’s King Sinbad.”

Kassim stops cold. “What?”

Alibaba meets his incredulous stare and nods very seriously. He has gotten somewhat used to the thought now, but he knows how Kassim feels right now—he used to feel just as incredulous not too long ago. “Right?”

“You… Are you delusional?” 

“No, no! I’m serious! I was just as surprised… I thought he was just some rich guy, but then it turned out to be like this…” He gives their surroundings a wary look. They’re surrounded by people, which should muffle their talk, but better safe than sorry. “Let’s not talk about this here. Do you know what kind of job Mariam was looking for? I know some shops around here…”

Eventually, they find Mariam in a seamstress’ abode, in the process of showing off her sewing skills. They stand a few meters away, trying to wait until she’s finished and secured herself a job. 

Even just watching from afar, Alibaba can see that she’s grown so much. She must stand at his chest and could probably reach his shoulder if she stands on her tiptoes. 

She grew up some much and he wasn’t here for it. So much time lost… 

Mariam’s face, as she turns around and sees them standing here, is absolutely breathtaking: disbelief and joy. 

Before either of them can say anything, Mariam has already ran and thrown herself into Alibaba’s arms, squeezing hard around his middle. “Big bro!”

“Mariam!” By now, he has gotten back enough strength to be able to spin her around in happiness. After a few spins, he crouches down to properly hug her—and also maybe because his knees have taken a hit from carrying her like that. “I’m here, I’m here,” he whispers, barely hearable over the sound of her mix of sniffling and giggling. 

He doesn’t know how long they stay here, just crying into each other's arms. Eventually, Kassim makes them move over to a quieter part of town, where there will be less people staring at them. 

They all sit down in a circle, Mariam sticking closer to him while Kassim stays opposite to him, like he’s his enemy. Alibaba can’t help but look at them with wide eyes, taking in the sight like a starved man. 

He just can’t believe they’re truly here. Kassim. Mariam. His siblings. They’re here!

But eventually, Alibaba needs to ask some questions: “Why are you here? N-not that I’m unhappy to see you! Not at all! It’s just… Has the situation in Balbadd worsened?”

“Not that much,” Kassim says, crossing his arms. “The King is too busy.”

“Busy?” Alibaba tilts his head but forgets the question — of course the King would be busy! He hurries on to his other question: “How did you know I would be here anyways?”

Kassim levels him an unimpressed look. “Do you truly think me some kinda magician? Of course I didn’t know you would be here… I’ve just been— searching, yeah.” He looks away, sniffing. “Whatever.”

“Big bro was worried so he asked around everywhere and gathered clues,” Mariam reveals, smiling. “And then we came here.”

Due to his soft spot for his little sister, Kassim doesn’t dare get angry about his secret being revealed. Instead, he scowls at Alibaba. “We aren’t the only ones searching for you.”

Alibaba’s heart is hit by thunder. “What?”

“Everyone has been looking for you,” Kassim says shortly. “It’s not an exaggeration. The King has gone mad with worry, they say. There are royal guards at every damn street corner! Even the fucking Queen Consort” ! “has gone all mourning-style!”

“The… the Queen Consort?”

Expression ice cold, Kassim snorts, crossing his arms. “She goes around town, parading her mourning clothes, asking everyone if they’ve caught sight of you. She’s even gone on trips to other countries in order to search for— Alibaba?”

The air has grown thin — or maybe it’s just Alibaba’s lungs which have shriveled up, or maybe it’s his throat which has gone too flat. He can’t breathe. 

The— the Queen— she is— 

_Her._

“Hey, hold on,” Kassim calls, jerking forward to grab Alibaba by the forearms to support him. Without realizing, his knees have gone weak. “What’s with you? Alibaba?”

Even Mariam dares open her mouth, frowning in obvious worry. “Big bro?” She looks in between her two brothers, asking for help. 

He jerks away from Kassim’s hold on him. “D-don’t—!” But it only helps in making him fall onto his back. 

His siblings stare down at him in shock and worry, gone mute and motionless due to the sight in front of them. What happened to suddenly make their strong, always sunny brother fall to the ground with nothing but a little questioning and someone grabbing him by the arms? 

But Alibaba can’t see it. In his mind, the one looking down at him right now is the Queen Consort, in the process of sealing his fate as nothing but a broken, useless boy.

.

Sinbad has left Ali with one sibling, yet he comes back with two.

There remains the older brother, whom he thinks might be named Kassim, but there is now an addition: a little girl, looking sweet, a bit shy—she turns out to be their little sister. While Ali is obviously not blood related to Kassim, what with the difference in coloring and face shapes, Kassim and the little girl do seem blood related.

He leans down to peer at the girl. She is held between Ali and his brother, hands curled around their fingers. “And who might you be, little one?”

She doesn’t answer, instead hides behind the legs of the eldest of her brothers. Even afraid of him, she still finds the courage to peek up at him. Still with his sour face, Kassim protectively pushes her further back, preventing her from even peeking. Ali is dragged along the movement by the hold he still has on his little sister’s hand. He seems entirely unwilling to let go of either his siblings, yet after a quick expression of pain, he obediently allows his brother to protect their sister. He steps forward, makes himself a shield for his siblings.

Sinbad watches this proceeding with a smile.

He’s not sure whether to be proud of Ali for being strong enough to protect those he loves, or alarmed that Ali still thinks of him as a threat. He can’t be too bothered, though. These children seem to all have suffered through a lot.

Ali tries his best to appear calm and collected as he faces him. “Sin. These are my siblings…” He falters. “…Could they stay alongside me? In the room you gave me… I can work harder! We can share the food rations you give me.” He really is desperate.

Sinbad’s heart twinges painfully. What a way to ask for help. “What are you saying? I already told you, if you need anything, you only need to ask.” He offers a kind smile to the aggressive older brother and the scared little sister. “I suppose that your siblings are just as insistent about work as you are. The little one seems a bit too young to work, but your brother may work with us, if he is not already employed elsewhere.” He thinks about offering them separate rooms too, but he fears they will take it badly.

Contrary to his brother’s unimpressed expression, Ali slumps in relief. “Thank you, Sin.”

Sinbad smiles very carefully. “It’s nothing. I’m glad to help you—and your family.”

He lets them leave, doesn’t even offer to accompany them up to the Palace. He thinks the older brother would try to murder him if he tried to shadow them even just a bit longer.

By the time the children have disappeared up the street towards the Palace, Ja’far is already at his side.

“What are their names?”

Sinbad tilts his head. “I believe the brother is named Kassim. As for the sister, they didn’t let me know.”

“Kassim arrived by merchant ship this morning, although none of the crew could say where they picked him up. It could be from Kou or Balbadd. None were aware that the little girl was aboard. He must have hidden her somewhere, as a stowaway.”

Sinbad sighs, crosses his arms.

Ja’far looks at him insistently. “What are you planning to do?”

“…Get someone to watch over them. Be careful about the oldest child, he is paranoid and will very likely act violent if he feels either of his siblings are threatened. Make sure to give Ali bigger portions for tonight.”

Ja’far nods. Just before he leaves, he says one last warning: “Sin, I told you before that you would hurt Ali with your lies… Ali might have willingly passed by all the hints due to his trauma, but that older brother of his will not do the same. Are you willing to have your identity revealed by someone who isn’t you?”

Sinbad watches him go, unable to answer.

Is he willing to let someone else hurt Ali because of his own faults?

.

The room Alibaba leads his siblings to suddenly feels overwhelming.

The tapestries, the bed sheets, the _bed_. The windows—the curtains! The wardrobe, the leftover plate with remains of food! The carpet on the ground! The shoes he has left on the right side of the door! The warm clothes in the wardrobe! The magical ceiling light! The oil lamp! It all reeks of money. It’s not money that Alibaba owns himself, but it’s money _he_ can use, once again.

Kassim’s face, as they enter the room, is horrible to see. “So this is where you’ve been?”

Mariam approaches the bed hesitantly. Then jumps to sit on it, gingerly, at Alibaba’s insistence. The mattress barely wobbles with the added weight, but just seeing herself sink into it makes her eyes go wide.

“…Yes,” Alibaba answers, nervously going over the window to close the curtains, then coming back to the door to push a chest in front of it, like it’s supposed to actually prevent anyone from entering—King Sinbad would be able to push through in less than a heartbeat. “I’ve been staying here, yes. Sin— King Sinbad gave me this room, after he… employed me. It’s what he calls it, at least. Mariam, you should try bouncing. Jump up and down on the bed, that is.”

They both watch Mariam stand up, wobbly, on the mattress, and then try jumping up and down. Her delighted expression is wonderful.

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Kassim calls, after a while. “Go slowly, or else you might break it. Haven’t you seen how Jardo makes his bed? Sometimes, the structure under the mattress isn’t strong enough. You also need to clean up your feet.”

Alibaba jolts. “I can go take the water right now, if you want.”

Staying silent for a nerve-wracking moment, Kassim meets his eyes, his gaze piercing and clearly reading right through him. “Before that, let’s talk.”

Sensing that the mood is changing, Mariam sits down on the edge of the bed, at attention. Alibaba goes to sit down next to her, the added weight making her slide close to him. She goes willingly, even snuggling into his side silently. Kassim continues to stand, leaning back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“So?”

“So what?”

“What was that?” Kassim asks bluntly. “That— that freak out you had, when I talked about…”

“She, uh.” He glances at Mariam. Poor, sweet, innocent Mariam. They’ve always done their best to keep her as safe from the cruelties of the world as possible, with varied results. “That is. The… I don’t think I can…”

Kassim grits his teeth, inhales and exhales, trying valiantly to remain calm. Alibaba can at least appreciate the effort. “What is it?”

“I can’t go back,” he blurts out.

“What?”

“I can’t go back!” Even Mariam flinches back with the sudden shout. He averts his eyes, silently opening up his arms to invite her in again. She plasters herself against his torso, glancing between her two brothers anxiously. She’s never liked it when they argue. Alibaba doesn’t like it either. He wishes… He wishes things could be easy. “I wish I could… I wish I had the strength to go back, but…”

Kassim’s features twist ugly. “You…!” He straightens up, and begins pacing the room anxiously, twisting a dread with one finger—his one nervous habit that he’s kept since childhood. “What are you saying? Are you even hearing yourself!?”

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re giving up!?” Kassim asks, suddenly stopping in his walk, his back turned to them. “You’re giving up on us? You’re giving up on Balbadd?”

Alibaba shamefully lowers his eyes. Is he giving up? “…I can’t help anyone, if I’m dead.”

“…Are you sick?” To ask this question, Mariam must still be traumatized by their mother’s quick disappearance. She herself has a rather poor health, which has led both Alibaba and Kassim to urge her to take care of herself the best she can.

He shakes his head. “That’s not it… If I go back there, she’ll really…”

She will…

_The soldiers grasp him by the arms, force him to his knees. He’s confused, doesn’t understand yet why she is being so aggressive, why guards who are supposed to follow his father’s words are now disobeying. He’s alone, suddenly, alone with people who loathe him simply because of the color of his hair and eyes._

_She cups his cheek, her ice cold fingers brushing against his neck, and says: “Dear child, how I worry about you.”_

Alibaba holds his head in his hands. He doesn’t understand at all. He really doesn’t.

Mariam grasps him by the shoulder, shakes him gently. “Big bro?”

He suddenly realizes that his breathing has gotten louder. “Has she— have they said anything? How did you know that I… that they…” He can’t form the words. “That something happened?”

It seems like Kassim has calmed down. When Alibaba glances up, he only catches a brief glimpse of fear on his face, which is then hidden behind a mask of annoyance. He sighs, crosses his arms, and leans back. “Your father’s worried—or something like that. It’s what they’re saying at least.” He pauses. “What’s this face you’re making?”

“He’s worried?” Not in the same way. Not in the same way—he has to remind himself. No one else knows. No one else remembers her words. Such small words, he’s really… He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not planning on coming back, I’m sorry.”

Mariam tries her best to hide her disappointment, but accepts his decision without arguing. She leans against him, head falling onto his shoulder. “Maybe we could stay here? All three of us…”

Standing up and towering above the two of them, Kassim’s expression twists angrily. “What nonsense are you spouting!? Staying here!? What is there here, for us? What about the others, back home? You’re really… just giving up on us! Now that you’re here and you’ve found someone to take care of you, you’ve hurried to forget all about us!” He spits out the words. “Ha! Not that I expected much better from you.”

Mariam immediately argues back with her brother, but Alibaba understands him.

In his place, he would be furious too. If Kassim suddenly decided to give up on Balbadd, on the miserable people they grew up with, he would be furious. He wouldn’t understand.

He’s… too tired to explain. He doesn’t want to think about it.

“I… don’t have anything to give anymore,” he says listlessly. Somehow, his quiet voice still manages to cut through his siblings’ arguing. “I can’t… even think about her…”

Her.

Mariam’s weight against him suddenly feels like a chain. A corpse they left to rot in his cell.

His body trembles, but he can’t stand up. He can’t see much anymore, can barely hear anything. His eyesight has gone blurry with tears he’s half sure aren’t real, and his hearing is blocked by the sound of his heartbeat. He thinks he sees Kassim sit down on the ground, frustration on his face, but it might as well be wishful thinking.

His siblings crowd over, but Alibaba can’t hear them anymore, slamming his hands over his eyes and ears. In truth, no matter who is by his side, no matter who is laying a hand over his shoulder, no matter who is supporting his weight or asking about his well being, Alibaba is—

Alibaba is alone.

Ever since that day, ever since she laid the pads of her fingertips against his throat, ever since the person he thought he could rely on let him be taken away… Alibaba has been alone.

And to this day, someone like him, who has become so repulsive, so much of a monster… Alibaba deserves to stay alone.

.

.

.

Ever since his siblings suddenly came back into his life, Ali has changed.

It is to be expected, of course. From what Sinbad and Ja’far managed to glean, these siblings were separated about a year ago, from whatever happened to Ali to traumatize him such. While Kassim and Mariam seem to have managed to stay together, Ali went far away—and it took them this long to find him.

(Thus, they can conclude that the traumatizing event happened without warning, if they were not aware prior to his departure of where he was going.)

Kassim is… There’s truly no other word for it—he’s a brat and a delinquent. At first, it’s not that obvious. He can be polite, if he so chooses to, and he can even smile on command, to please clients. However, he’s… not that kind. With Ali, that is. And with anyone at all, actually. Except his little sister. Not much is known about him, apart from the obvious: Ali’s older brother, has a little sister, a street kid, comes from Balbadd, and will work for just about any salary.

He doesn’t come to the Palace often. He sometimes even doesn’t come back to sleep, disappearing who knows where to do who knows what. Ali seems worried about him, often asking the guards if they’ve seen him come back yet. The little sister, on the contrary, seems used to it.

While Kassim goes down to the docks to work, Ali stays at his usual post. However, now, he is shadowed by his little sister. Her name is Mariam.

She is an angel.

Obedient and quiet, she follows her siblings around without ever making so much as a single peep. The only sound she makes comes from her steps, quick and usually silent, like she was taught to be fast and discreet. She thanks people for the simplest of things, from opening the door for her to just not bumping into her while walking, and almost begins crying when Sinbad offers her a single, not even that big, loaf of bread. The tears come out silently, as everything does with her, and she holds still while Ali wipes away the wetness on her face. Then, she smiles big and wide, and thanks Sinbad with the most heartfelt emotion he has heard in years.

All that information is gleaned in a week or so, with only Sinbad and Ja’far’s own input about the situation.

As for the rest of them… they don’t really get the chance to see Ali again, or any of his siblings.

Kassim’s distaste for them, or for anything related to the Palace or royalty in general, is obvious to see. It makes sense, then, that he would refuse to let Ali get too close to them, even if he wasn’t there to prevent their previous interactions before his arrival. Mariam can barely tolerate Sinbad’s presence, and shies away from anyone else. She even hides from the bookkeeper, only taking orders from her big brother himself, who has to act as an intermediary.

However, even without getting to meet Kassim and his little sister, the effects of their arrival is obvious to see.

Ali has changed.

Towards his siblings, he has the warmest of attitudes, always smiling and laughing, not even complaining when his big brother treats him badly or insults him. However, his attitude towards them, towards even _Sin_ himself, has changed.

It’s obvious that he wants to talk to them more, that he wants to eat lunch together again, that he wants to go on nightly walks again. But… whenever he looks like he’s about to come to them, whenever it looks like he’s about to accept an invitation—suddenly, a terrible expression crosses his face, and he refuses again.

  
  


One time, Sinbad manages to catch Ali and Kassim together, walking out of the Palace.

At the sight of him, Ali’s face immediately brightens up—he must be in a (rare, now) good mood. He runs up to Sinbad. His brother lingers in the back for a moment, meeting Sinbad’s eyes with his own dark gaze, and then slowly walks to join them too.

“Sin!” Ali greets, and his joyful voice is truly a wonder to hear again. When was the last time Sinbad got to hear his laugh? “Kassim and I are going downtown to get a gift for Mariam—it’s her birthday!”

“Birthday?” Sinbad offers Ali a big smile, keeping an eye on the brother who is, of course, trying to hide a sneer. “Did you warn the cooks? They can make little Mariam a birthday cake, too!”

“Oh, I didn’t think about that…” Ali says slowly. His eyes drift over back to the Palace, already thinking about what kind of cake he can ask for. “Would that really be alright? Aren’t cakes expensive? All the sugar you have to use…”

Sinbad meets Kassim’s gaze again, then leans down to ruffle Ali’s hair with a big, big smile. “Of course! Anything for my favorite kid!”

Another glance towards Kassim—a calculating face. So he was right.

Ali is in such a good mood that he even pretend-fights Sinbad’s show of affection, weakly trying to push his hands away from his head. A bright laugh escapes him. “Sin! Are you saying Mariam is your favorite? I thought it was me!” He looks up at Sinbad with bright, playful eyes.

“Oh ho?” He’s playing along? “Well,” he makes a show of thinking, holding a finger to his chin and tilting his head back. “I don’t know. Mariam looks like a pretty sweet girl…”

“Sin!”

“I’m joking! I’m joking!” Sinbad laughs, under Ali’s small fists thumping into his chest. He catches him by the wrists, loose enough not to trigger anything—Ali is still smiling, cheeks rosy with happiness. He hasn’t seen this in quite some time now. No, it’s more accurate to say he’s never seen Ali _this_ obviously happy. “…You look happy,” he says, quiet enough not to let the brother hear, crouching down to meet Ali’s eyes face to face. “I’m glad.”

Ali loses his smile, frown appearing. “Sin… I…”

It might be too difficult for him to explain—is his trauma involved in this? “You must be happy that your siblings are here, hm?”

A shaky exhale leaves Ali. “Yes, I am. Thank you for letting me stay with them. And… I… Sin…”

“Yes?”

“Concerning Kassim and Mariam… and… and my family…” The words seem hard for Ali to find. His gaze is locked on the ground, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that it feels almost criminal not to tease him about incoming wrinkles.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Ali,” Kassim cuts in suddenly. “Come on, hurry up. We don’t have all day.”

“Hm? Oh, you’re going shopping for a birthday gift, right?” Sinbad says slowly, playing dumb. He rises up, making sure not to tower over Ali, keeping a kind face. “For your little sister? Do you have any idea what she’d like to have?”

“What is it to you,” Kassim answers.

At the same time, Ali shakes his head. “We don’t know yet. I was thinking of a doll. It’s her first proper birthday gift!”

“A doll? Hm…” He scratches his chin in thought. Ali will refuse if he offers to pay the whole price himself, but maybe he can at least pay most of it. “You know, I think I know a shop or two—artisans of quality, you know? Some have even got dolls that make noise or glow. Well, for a limited amount of times, of course. You’ll have to go to Yamuraiha or someone with magic to make it work again, after a while. If you want, I can come with and talk the vendors into giving you a discount.” He winks. “Most people here owe me a favor or two.”

Ali’s face is radiant. “Really? Thank you, Sin! Kassim and I saved up for it, but even then, it’s still not much…”

“It’s nothing. I’m just glad to help, little Mariam more than deserves a little something for herself.”

In comparison, Kassim… looks like he is both ready to murder him _and_ has reached an epiphany. The realization that comes to his face is almost laughably obvious to see. Sinbad can read it clear as day: 

_My brat of a brother can still be useful_.

Yes, indeed, Ali can still be useful to Kassim. After all, despite his feeble personality and weak body, now, Ali has managed to form _connections_ with those unknown people from Sindria, who are so obviously powerful—powerful, influential, important. People who can give him “discounts” on anything he wants, people who can give him more, people who can give him and his little sister, someone who becomes important only because she is dear to Ali, a better life!

And the way to get it? Act brotherly with this little street rat who calls himself his brother!

…Yes, Sinbad can read it. He’s learned how to recognize this type of behavior, with his many years of life. How many times he’s experienced this himself—he can’t even count. Ja’far would be able to tell, probably. Sinbad stopped paying attention. He’s learned both how to avoid such people and how to make their plans fail.

Ali is still young, however. He’s young, miserable, traumatized, and starving for attention. He believes Kassim to be his brother, to want only the best for him—he’ll never even doubt that Kassim has less than good intentions, will he?

Kassim is someone from his past, and someone whom he trusts. Even if they didn’t have a good relationship before whatever separated them, now that Ali has gone through traumatizing events, he will cling onto anyone who shows even the lightest bit of affection or care.

Sinbad knows this. He’s seen this happen between Ali and himself.

In the end, they get the doll at a specialized artisan, who indeed does give them a “discount” (which is just code for “the Palace will send you the rest of the price later”). 

The doll itself is a cute thing: big yet delicate, sewed in soft cotton and filled with both untreated cotton and tissue scraps, with almost-proper human anatomy and a smiling face. Its hair even looks similar to Mariam’s own dreads, separated into twin tails. With the money they manage to save from the “discount,” the boys even get to buy two sets of clothes for the doll.

They gather outside the artisan shop, watching the busy passersby.

“I have to get back to work. My boss’ not that kind with time,” Kassim says in a low voice, leaning into Ali’s space. If Sinbad were anyone but Sinbad, he would not hear it. “Hey, this guy… Maybe he’s not so bad. It’s not a terrible idea to stick with him a little longer.”

Ali beams back at his brother. “I’m glad you agree, Kassim!”

“Right. I’ll talk to you later. Hide the doll from Mariam for now, alright? Let’s give it to her together.”

“Alright! See you later.”

They both watch Kassim disappear into the flow of people. Ali clings onto the package in his arms—the little doll, wrapped in a delicate white cloth (that he’s sure they will be able to make use of, somehow). Sinbad observes his frame and faraway gaze.

“Ali, your brother…”

“I know,” Ali interrupts quickly. He breaks off his stare to look up at Sinbad, even offering a smile. “I know what you’re thinking. You think that Kassim is trying to take advantage of me, right? Or rather, that he’s trying to take advantage of you through me.”

“…And?”

“That’s not it,” Ali says, simply. “Kassim is just like this. He doesn’t know how to love without any clear-cut, rational reason. He loves Mariam because she’s his little sister. It's his job to take care of her. He loves me because I’m useful. That’s it.”

“He loves you?”

It seems he’s comfortable with this topic of conversation, because Ali, even though he’s been so shy with them recently, even dares to turn comically wide eyes to him. “Right!? Every time I think about it, I’m surprised, too. It took me a while to really understand him. It was easier when we were children.”

“You’re still children,” Sinbad interjects quickly.

“It’s not the same.”

Yes, Sinbad can guess why. They grew up, they got separated. They spent time apart—months if not years, and the experience has no doubt changed them and how they behave with one another.

“…Even Mariam is different,” Ali says, voice so low that it might be a whisper.

Ah, the worries of youth. Sinbad wishes he could still spend his time worrying about such fickle things… or, wait, huh. He scratches his cheek sheepishly, remembering the countless hours he’s spent worrying about Ali’s opinion of him. Maybe he still does.

“Everyone changes,” he says instead, a bit lamely. “That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad thing. There will always be a day where you look back at your past and feels like who you were has become a stranger, but as long as your heart is set on the right path, it will all be alright.” 

Eyebrows furrowed, Ali continues to look doubtful.

Sinbad allows a grin on his face, gently tapping a finger against Ali’s cheek. “I’m sure there’ll come a day where you look back at today and think: oh Gods, was Sinbad always this embarrassing? And then you’ll come to my office and hit me thrice on the back for everything I put you through, hm? How’s about that?”

Ali looks up at him. For once, his eyes are completely clear, rid of the usual fear and exhaustion, studying Sinbad quietly. Then, he smiles, something shy and hopeful and terribly precious. “I think that sounds nice.”

Alright, he’s reassured! Sinbad pats himself on the back (thrice).

Trying to act like his face isn’t going red, Ali looks in the distance, thinking. “I guess… even if the exterior changes, the core remains the same, right? Kassim was like this five years ago, and he’ll probably be like this too, five years in the future. Sin, will you be the same in 10 years?”

Holding his chin in thought, Sinbad considers the question very seriously. “It’d be a shame to lose all my good looks to age.”

“What good looks?”

Truly showing an attitude befitting a king, Sinbad pouts. “Aw, come on. Who got you your discounts today, hm? Be a little bit kinder on your dear, very kind and very beautiful big brother Sin.”

Ali makes a face, but can only last a few moments before bursting out into childish giggles. He gently pats Sinbad on the arm, touches light and fleeing, before quickly retreating. “Maybe you’ll age like wine?”

“...You’re really merciless. I guess that’s better than nothing.”

.

In the end, it happens as an accident. 

Ali is not that clumsy, all things considered, but he does have his moments. Sometimes, he gets struck by dizzying spells, a leftover from his weakened health, and stumbles or even falls. 

It just happens that, one day, as they’re walking near a fountain in the walls of the Palace, Ali gets struck by such a spell and falls head first into the fountain. 

“Ali!” Sinbad calls, quickly lifting him out. Thankfully, it looks like it was more fear than harm — Ali’s forehead is clear, without any expected crack or bruise. In the end, the only things that happened were Sinbad’s heart nearly jumping out of his chest and Ali’s head getting absolutely soaked. 

“Ugh,” Ali mumbles, standing there like a wet dog. He shakes his head, droplets of water flying around. 

Sinbad can only laugh, relieved. “Come on,” he coaxes, taking out a tissue and gently wiping Ali’s face and hair. The water seems to have wiped away some of the ink in his hair, which stains Sinbad’s tissue and drips down onto Ali’s clothes instead.

“Oops,” Ali whispers, rubbing a golden strand between his fingers. His hand comes out stained black. He meets Sinbad’s eyes, with something that could be understood as shyness but is actually… slowly awakening, deep-seeded terror. “Um. Can you pretend you didn’t see that?”

Heart thundering in his chest, Sinbad offers a charming smile. “No worries, Yamuraiha had a hair-dying phase too. Your secret’s safe with me.”

It seems like joking about it is the right thing to do. Ali’s whole frame relaxes, and he offers a relieved smile. He must be hoping that Sinbad will truly think nothing of it and just forget about it.

They soon separate after that, Sinbad not willing to force Ali into staying when he’s so obviously uncomfortable.

  
  


Blond hair, golden eyes. White skin, which tans easily. A strange red collar around his neck. About 13 years old. Must have been at least over 7 years old when he was taken away, since he knew what Kassim and Mariam were like 5 years ago. Knows economics, politics, maths, literature, and even Balbadd’s swordsmanship style.

Can it be even more obvious?

Standing in his office, fingertips still stained from Ali’s hair ink, Sinbad faces both Ja’far and Masrur, knowing their thoughts are on the same path. They wait for his decision. Sinbad considers pretending like the revelation wasn’t made to them. 

“We don’t have enough info about what happened,” Sinbad finally bites out, frustration coloring his voice. He can’t help it. “What can we do, if we’re like this? Ali is…”

“Sinbad,” Ja’far warns. “Once you say it, there will be no more going back.”

“I know.”

But if they don’t act now, when will they? Will they let the perpetrators of this crime go unpunished? How can they make sure Ali never has to fear again if the threat of whoever hurt him is still hanging over his head? How can he ever face Ali again, knowing that he had the opportunity to _fix_ this, but chose not to do anything? 

Growing more and more resolute, Sinbad looks directly at his two most trusted people, and says: “‘Ali’ is Alibaba Saluja, the missing Third Prince of Balbadd. This is my final conclusion.”

Both Ja’far and Masrur nod, faces grim but understanding. “What shall we do?”

Sinbad rubs his fingers together. The ink thickens and peels off. 

“Let’s go directly to the source.”

.

.

.

“Hey, did you hear? Apparently, there’s gonna be a royal ship from Balbadd today.”

“What?”

“Yeah… I guess King Sinbad’s gonna strengthen the bonds between Sindria and Balbadd?”

“You think it has anything to do with the rumors about… you know? The missing third prince.”

“No way! If the third prince was here, we would have seen him, right?”

“True… Maybe it’s just a member of the royal family doing some tourism then? We gotta make sure to suck their money dry.”

“Tourism? Haha, it must be nice to be royalty.” 

As the chatter continues, no one notices the child hurrying away with an angered protection. After all, that Kassim always acts like this, anyways. How is this any different from usual? 

.

It’s not his mentor who descends from the Balbadd royal ship.

As his mentor’s Queen Consort steps down the last few steps, Sinbad does his best not to tense up. What is the meaning of this? Where is his mentor? Is he unwell? Why is she, of all people, here?

The Queen Consort of Balbadd is a beautiful, well cared-for woman. Sinbad has only seen her a few times, but she’s always worn intricate, expensive clothes, and exotic face paint (he heard, once or twice, that she is of Kou origins). Her face, when impassive, is rather severe, and even her makeup cannot hide the growing signs of age—including the drooping lines under her eyes. Her mouth is always smiling, despite the blankness of her eyes.

“Queen Consort,” he greets, smiling. “I did not realize it would be you coming. I sent my letter specifically to King Rashid.”

“He was a bit… occupied,” she answers. “I mentioned wanting to see Sindrian sights, and he let me come instead.”

“It’s a pleasure to have you here, Queen Consort,” Ja’far says politely, though it’s obvious to Sinbad that his heart is not in it.

Odd. Truly odd. 

The Queen Consort, truly? It’s saddening, but women don’t have that high of a responsibility in Balbadd—at least, not queen consorts. If it were any other occasion (if Sinbad had only invited his mentor to a feast or celebration, for example), then her arrival here would not be surprising. However, because he asked his mentor to come for political and diplomatic reasons, her arrival is… very odd, and very troubling.

What is she trying to do?

The Queen Consort comes with a lot of affairs, things that must be transported to the guest rooms the Palace has prepared for King Rashid and the guards and maids he would have brought. While the maids and Palace staff transport all of this, all under the Queen Consort’s strict eye, Sinbad meets with Ja’far and Masrur.

“My informants tell me that King Rashid is well,” Ja’far says shortly, looking around as though he’s expecting someone to eavesdrop (which makes sense, considering the new arrivals). “He truly is just occupied—about the disappearance of the royal member.”

Sinbad holds his chin in thought. “But in the letter I wrote, I clearly alluded to that…”

“The Queen Consort has access to the King’s letter,” Ja’far says. “Perhaps she saw it before him? Is there any way King Rashid would send her in order to figure out if he’s really there?”

“Perhaps… It’s too early to tell right now. Keep an eye on her. Forbid her from going anywhere close to Ali’s quarters.” No wait, “Actually… Masrur, go check on Ali. Make sure she doesn’t get anywhere near him. I’ll figure out what her intentions are right now.”

.

He invites the Queen Consort for tea. She comes, accompanied with some maids. Ja’far stands behind Sinbad’s own seat.

The conversation starts out simple. The Queen Consort enthusiastically recounts all the sights she wants to visit during her stay, while Sinbad suggests some shops and experiences to try out. It’s all really mundane talk.

Then, the Queen Consort says, idly: “I’ve heard an interesting rumor recently, Your Majesty.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, it was that you now have a son. A boy… with golden eyes?”

Unwittingly, a flush of pride fills Sinbad’s body. A son! Rumors about a son! They must be talking about Ali. What a pleasure it is to hear that—people consider Ali his son! Under Ja’far’s amused eye, Sinbad tries his best not to melt into the armchair from happiness. “Yes, that is true. Although, nothing is official yet, so I hope that you will not share anything.”

Silence. The Queen Consort sips her tea.

“I did not realize King Sinbad partook in practices such as kidnapping,” she says, with a light tone, nonchalant.

Oh. Right. She’s talking about Ali, who is actually the missing royalty from Balbadd. A boy with “golden eyes”—is that truly the only defining factor, now?

“Interesting you would say that,” Sinbad answers, voice ice cold. All giddiness has already left him. “Some time ago, someone dared to hurt my child—put him through quite the ordeal. Ever since then, I have been… a bit more protective.”

The Queen Consort goes to take one sip of tea but then puts it back on the table. She must have understood the threat, because she doesn’t dare meet his eyes. “Is that so? How protective are we talking?” Oh, so maybe she doesn’t get it entirely then.

“I’m afraid I would have to retaliate.”

Her whole body goes tense. “You would— You would declare war on Balbadd just over this brat!?”

“Careful,” Sinbad says, lowering his voice. He offers a perfect smile, despite the anger already curling in his gut. “This ‘brat’ you’re speaking of is my son.”

“He’s not really your son,” she continues, like saying this is actually making a point. “He’s not even King Rashid’s son. He’s just a bastard, you see? There’s no point in getting him under you.”

No point? He laughs. “Somehow, I’m not surprised. Someone like you wouldn’t know a thing about love, after all.” He stops laughing, losing his smile. “Let me make it clear, Consort. You may have been able to do as you wished in the past, when Alibaba was still part of your ‘family’… but now he’s _mine_. If you hurt him, you will be hurting a member of the Sindrian royal family. Do you understand?”

“…I understand.” Her lips tremble, though she valiantly tries to keep her chin up. The threat of a war between Balbadd and Sindria seems to finally scare her enough to give up—what a vendetta she has, against Alibaba! Truly impressive, in the oddest of ways.

…It must be her, who hurt Ali so much. It has to be her.

Red hot, silent anger fills Sinbad. His fingers twitch in his lap. 

He wants to kill her.

It must be her, who made Ali so fearful of even his own shadow. It must be her, who made a child so traumatized that he doesn’t even know how to look at people without trembling. It must be her, who hurt _his_ kid so much that… that Ali can’t even understand how much people care about him.

…It will be bad for politics, if he kills her right now. And she deserves to suffer, anyway—suffer for everything she made Ali go through. He can’t kill her now.

His fingers relax. His smile reappears.

Why did King Rashid marry this woman? She's beautiful, she’s cunning, she’s discreet. What more can one ask for, hm? …Sinbad can’t help but feel disappointed. He expected better from his mentor. How can someone so smart and resourceful accept to marry such a person? Was he forced into it due to politics?

No matter the reason, Sinbad just can’t allow Balbadd to get its hands back on Alibaba—at least, not yet. His kid is too fragile for now. He needs to grow stronger in order to face his nightmares properly, and Sinbad will be there to guide him along the way.

“If that’s all we had to discuss,” Sinbad says amiably.

“I, yes, that is, that is all I had to discuss.” She avoids his eyes. The realization seems to finally be hitting her. Her maids, behind her, exchange worried looks.

.

Once they’re outside, Ja’far gives him a look.

Sinbad knows what he’s trying to say. “You don’t have to look at me like that.”

He should have stayed calm and not given his inner thoughts like that — what does it help if the Queen Consort knows that he cares about Ali on a personal level? If he had pretended not to know anything, he could have gathered more information, making it easier for him to move against her. Not only that, but now she knows that, if she somehow manages to get a hold of Ali, she’ll have immense power over him, as he’s clearly willing to even wage war against Balbadd for Ali’s sake. 

Sinbad rubs the skin under his eye, a bit sheepish. “I couldn’t help it. When she said those words, my head went blank.” He laughs. “Talk about a King’s composure, huh? She just vaguely threatened to hurt Ali, and I immediately…”

Sympathetic, Ja’far lays a hand on his forearm, stopping him. “Alright. We’ll just have to work with what we have now. As long as Ali stays in Sindria, we’ll be able to protect him.”

Just as Sinbad nods decisively, they turn around a corner and spot Masrur in the distance.

“Masrur!” Sinbad calls. “There you are. Where is Ali?”

Masrur turns around at his call, and though his face is impassive as always, Sinbad immediately reads the nervousness in his expression. What? What happened? “…I can’t find him.”

“…What?”

“I can’t find Ali.”

Sinbad turns to Ja’far.

He shakes his head. “If one of mine had managed to find him, they would have come back to warn me already.”

“Damn it.” Sinbad holds a hand to his temple. “Did the Queen Consort make her move already?” Did she kidnap Ali already!? What is the use!? She didn’t even know his feelings before their talk! Could it be this discussion was just a distraction while she sent someone else to take Ali!? 

Masrur catches his attention again. “His siblings are gone too.”

“Kassim and Mariam?”

“Yes. All of their personal belongings have disappeared, including Mariam’s doll.” She never takes her doll to work, and she would never just let it disappear—she loves the little thing far too much. Just what happened…?

“…Ja’far!” Sinbad calls sharply, activating his Djinn at the same time. “When was the last time someone saw Ali? Did a ship for Balbadd leave recently?”

“At noon when he left for lunch! No, it hasn’t left yet. Ships for Kou, Parthevia, and Reim have left though!”

“Got it!” He flies off before anything else can be said.

He has to hurry. If he wastes too much time, who knows what will happen to Ali—and to his siblings. If this is because of the Queen Consort, then it might mean the worst: she might be trying to silence them, forever. If this is not because of the Queen Consort, then…

Then, why? Why did Ali and his siblings disappear? Where did they go?

In a flash, he’s on the first ship. The crew members startle at his sudden appearance. “Your Majesty…!?”

“A child! Have you seen a child?”

“N-no, we haven’t, Your Majesty… This is a merchandise ship. No civilians are allowed…”

Sinbad flies off.

All four ships tell him the same story: they either have no children aboard, or those children are accompanied with adult family members. Sinbad even checks to make sure they didn’t sneak aboard somehow, hidden in barrels just like how Mariam first arrived in Sindria. The ship to Balbadd gives the same results. 

Ali… 

Sinbad doesn’t find them. He doesn’t even find a hint of where they could be. There’s absolutely no trace of any of the children.

Are they somewhere else? Are they still in Sindria, hidden somewhere?

If it’s the Queen Consort, could she have hidden them somewhere in the island, trying to trick him into thinking that she got them out, and then genuinely sneaking them out once he turns his attention outward? Or maybe she’s already killed them off and dumped their bodies somewhere. Would she dare?

If it’s not the Queen Consort, then where did they go? Is someone else involved? Is it that Kassim decided to take his younger siblings away? Is it because they saw the Balbadd royal ship arrive?

Did Ali run away?

Could it be… that Ali saw the royal ship and thought that the mysterious and elusive “King of Sindria” betrayed him? Could it be that Ali, not knowing that “King Sinbad” was actually “Sin,” thought that he would be handed back to the Queen Consort?

Could it be that Ali thought Sinbad was handing him back to the people who hurt him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!!!  
> And now, onto the final chapter.... ugh, not looking forward to it. It's okay, I've still got uh, [checks watch] less than 2 months.

**Author's Note:**

> Ali: i'm not gonna trust anyone.  
> Sin:  
> Ali: i'm gonna trust 1 person.  
> Eight Generals:  
> Ali: i'm gonna trust 9 persons.  
> Sin: hey check out this kid i found.  
> Eight Generals: neat. when u planning to adopt him?  
> Sin: oh no. no adopt, only look. 
> 
> Sin: hmm if my identity is revealed to ali suddenly he will be heartbroken.  
> Ja'far: indeed. ure telling him then?  
> Sin: .  
> Ja'far: .
> 
> Sin: i am very smooth & charismatic. people love me bc i manipulate them.  
> also Sin: oh sht i made my kid cry & i dont know why.
> 
> How is Alibaba getting his infinite supply of black ink for his hair?? I don't know. How did Masrur not notice that Alibaba was at the Harvest??? I don't know. How come Sinbad doesn't immediately relate Ali with his mentor?????  
> everyone say thank u to Plot Convenience uwu.


End file.
